


One Summer

by TeaHouseMoon



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017), Call Me By Your Name - All Media Types, Call Me by Your Name - André Aciman
Genre: Alpha Oliver, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Elio with a baby, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Mpreg, Omega Elio, Omega Verse, Smut, dad oliver
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-25
Updated: 2019-02-01
Packaged: 2019-08-07 14:13:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 31,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16409975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeaHouseMoon/pseuds/TeaHouseMoon
Summary: “No, but Marzia! You can only get pregnant when you’re in heat, and he, he pulled out!”“Are you sure about that?”Elio bit his lip. No, he wasn’t sure.





	1. Chapter 1

Elio and Marzia had decided that the summer of their seventeen years was going to be the best ever. They were going to go out every day, party, meet new people. Fall in love - maybe more than once. Have sex for the first time.

It was July already, and they had stayed true to their promise as far as the going out and partying went. They had kissed a few people. But Marzia had found someone - she wouldn’t call him a boyfriend, not really, but she was definitely dating. And having sex.

 

Elio wasn’t. And not for lack of offers.

He’d had quite a few suitors the past month - especially after he’d kissed a few, especially after they’d discovered he was an omega, and a beautiful one at that.

But the truth was that Elio didn’t really like any of them. For his first time, he wanted someone he actually was attracted to. He didn’t want to be ruled by his heats, or by the challenge, or by expectations. He wanted to wait.

 

Until he didn’t have to wait anymore.

 

When Oliver arrived, he was perfect. He was handsome, so handsome, and tall, and nicely built - as soon as Elio looked at his arms he could imagine being held by them, being lifted, being controlled. Wanting to be.

Oliver was the perfect alpha for him, and Elio was quickly smitten.

 

Oliver kissed him one night, as they hung out by the bar in the piazzetta, both warmed by the wine they’d been drinking. The music from inside the bar resonated low in their ears as Oliver caged him against a railing, and Elio felt deliciously trapped, as the Alpha kissed him, pushed his tongue into his mouth when Elio opened up obediently.

Elio felt on fire, already, just with one kiss. He moaned into Oliver’s mouth, and received a growl in response. His heat was not far - perhaps a few days away. His abdomen contracted with desire, and Elio wished he could wrap his legs around Oliver’s hips there and then.

“Fuck,” Oliver growled again against Elio’s throat when he broke the kiss. Elio’s vision was clouded, his omega brain only wanting one thing. And he wasn’t even in heat yet.

“I want to do it,” he murmured against Oliver’s lips, hoping to distract him from how slutty he was being. Oliver had only just arrived.

“You’re making things very difficult for me,” Oliver whispered back. He bit Elio’s mouth, his cheek, down his throat.

Elio whined.

In hindsight, he thought that was perhaps what started everything. Elio asking for it so openly, and Oliver almost in heat himself - could Alphas even go into heat?

Elio didn’t know, but that’s definitely how it felt.

He was pulled along into the car Oliver had rented, Oliver driving them somewhere, near the house, in the woods, Elio couldn’t remember. He remembered Oliver asking him if he’d done it before. ‘No’, he’d breathed before his brain could connect to his mouth. A moment of terror, maybe Oliver changed his mind, maybe that made Elio sound like a child - but then Oliver pulled him bodily onto himself, and they made out, kissed frantically, Oliver’s hands under Elio’s clothes already. Oliver moved them to the backseat moments later - there wasn’t enough space in the front. He undressed Elio, and Elio trembled, in pure fear and excitement, and also because Oliver’s hormones were already affecting every single corner of his omega body.

Oliver laid Elio down on the seat and covered him with his larger body, and kissed him, as he pushed inside him. It hurt, and felt so good. It was happening.

When Oliver came inside him, Elio felt complete. His tummy ached because of how good the whole thing had felt. He laid still, not wanting Oliver to move, feeling every inch of him still inside his body, every tiny movement jolting something inside that pulled ripples out of his recent orgasm. He felt complete, sated. Owned. Happy.

 

Oliver only moved a while later, when he tiredly pulled up on his arms and looked down at Elio.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he murmured, kind of breathless. He dislodged himself from Elio as gently as he could.

And then that was it; they both pulled their discarded clothes back on, and, with one last kiss to Elio’s mouth, Oliver drove them back home.

 

 

Elio’s heat arrived, punctual as a Swiss clock, a couple of days later.

Obviously, Oliver could smell him, so clearly; he was only in the next room after all.

He came to visit Elio at night, and almost instantly they were twined, wrapped in each other, Oliver in between Elio’s legs and Elio’s hands in Oliver’s hair.

“I’ll pull out in time,” Oliver promised on Elio’s throat. Elio just nodded, nodded, he didn’t care. Pull out, don’t pull out. He just needed him. Badly.

 

 

 

“You can still get pregnant, even when you’re not in heat,” Marzia hissed at Elio. “Don’t tell me you didn’t know??”

Elio bit his lip, and frowned. “That’s not true.”

“It is true.” Marzia’s eyes were wide, her expression one of utter disbelief. “Elio, for God’s sake.”

“I’m not pregnant. It was probably just something I ate,” Elio, stubborn, said. He’d been feeling nauseous for two days now. He’d thrown up that morning. But it couldn’t be. Marzia was wrong.

“How many times did you do it?”

“It’s none of your business.”

Marzia’s eyes, possibly, went even wider.

“Don’t be ridiculous! This is serious. Tell me!”

“I don’t know. I can’t remember. It was a few times, ok?”

“Listen, Elio. You either tell me, or I’m taking you to the doctor. Did you use protection?”

Elio rolled his eyes, but that only made him more nauseous. He felt like he was being interrogated by his math teacher.

“No, but Marzia! You can only get pregnant when you’re in heat, and he, he pulled out!”

“Are you sure about that?”

Elio bit his lip. No, he wasn’t sure. He couldn’t remember. His brain had been foggy, woolly with hormones and omega thoughts of breeding and sex. He hadn’t paid attention.

He was sure it was fine.

“Seriously. It’s nothing,” he repeated, and looked away.

 

 

 

A week later, and the nausea hadn’t stopped. He’d been throwing up every other day. Even his mother noticed.

Elio’s legs trembled every time he thought of it. Of the possibility.

“Please take a test,” Marzia pleaded with him one afternoon.

Elio looked away again and didn’t reply.

“What did the Alpha say?”

“His name is Oliver,” Elio defended. “And he hasn’t said anything.”

Oliver always woke up early to run in the morning. Every time he’d been sick, Elio had been alone; he’d gone back to bed by the time Oliver returned.

Marzia still looked worried, but she just nodded.

 

 

 

 

One more week. And Elio looked at himself in the mirror. His shirt rucked up to his underarms.

His belly was still flat, but he wasn’t so sure it would stay that way.

 

 

They’d had sex again a couple of times but Elio had insisted on making Oliver use a condom. He didn’t know why; deep down, he maybe still hoped he was still fertile to breed, rather than pregnant already.

 

But Oliver had noticed a change and he’d asked, why this? Why now? Elio did not reply. He just kissed him, and hoped that was enough to distract his Alpha brain.

 

 

Until he couldn’t wait anymore.

 

Elio had to take a test. He felt nauseous all the time. He felt like he could faint. Some smells made him sick. His mother was worried. Their housekeeper, Mafalda, had begun to look at him with knowing eyes.

 

Elio took the test and of course, it was positive.

 

Elio took another one. Positive.

 

Fuck.

 

 

 

He locked himself in his room for the longest time, trembling, considering. His tummy felt warm; he pulled his knees up against it, hugged himself and hid his head under the pillow. He could feel his omega brain, taking over.

He was pregnant, he was pregnant. He was pregnant.

 

He wanted this baby. He wanted this baby.

He wanted this baby.

 

 

“Elio?” Oliver said, knocking on his door, sounding concerned.

“Come in,” Elio called back.

“Why are you being like this? What’s the matter?” Oliver asked. He was frowning, he was piqued.

Elio sat up, curls messy, light headed.

“I’m pregnant.”

He watched Oliver take a step back.

“You’re what?”

“I’m pregnant.” A stupid answer for a stupid question.

“You can’t.”

“I can. And I am.”

Oliver was kind of pale. He looked disbelieving.

“I want to keep it.”

Oliver had only cleared his throat, and said nothing for long minutes.

“You’re only seventeen.”

“I want to keep it. I want my baby.”

His omega brain. Taking full and total control.

Oliver’s jaw set. His hands closed into fists. He cleared his throat again.

“I don’t know what to say.”

Elio knew that Oliver wasn’t lying. He looked down; and Oliver left the room.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Elio was asleep on his bed, but he could feel a presence next to him. He blinked; rousing to full consciousness, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes with a hand, a bit like a child.

Oliver was sitting on the bed, looking at him.

“You finally managed to come back,” Elio grumbled, pulling himself up to sitting, frowning.

“Hormones already making you run your mouth, I see,” Oliver scolded. 

Elio shot him a dirty look.

“If you’re here to patronise me, you can fucking leave.”

He had never talked back to an Alpha before. And in the blink of an eye he found himself pushed back down on the bed, his arms out by his head, wrists pushed down and squeezed, hard, by hands much larger and stronger than his.

“Let me go, you’re hurting me! I’m pregnant!” he cried, breathing hard.

“Then don’t fight,” Oliver growled.

His eyes were flashing dangerously, the blue almost black in his irises. He didn’t let him go.

Elio’s abdomen contracted, and it was painful. He felt torn between protecting himself, protecting his delicate, exposed, pregnant belly - and wanting to submit to the Alpha. His Alpha. Wanting to be bred, even though it had already happened.

Oliver leant down further, nuzzled the side of his throat. Despite himself, Elio lifted his chin to make more room for him.

When Oliver finally let him go, Elio scooted up on the bed away from him, rubbing his wrists, scowling in his direction.

“I didn’t hurt you,” Oliver mumbled, sighing. Elio pulled his legs up against his tummy.

“Don’t you dare touch my baby.”

“Elio. Stop. We need to talk about this.”

It was like the animal side in Oliver had suddenly disappeared. Now, he wanted to talk. Elio thought there was nothing to talk about.

“I don’t need to talk.”

“You’re seventeen. You’re too young.”

“You’re twenty-four. You’re old enough.”

Elio lifted his chin, defiant. An Alpha needed to take care of his children. Whether he was with his omega or not.

“But you’ll have to give birth. Your body isn’t ready. Your hips are too small. It’s dangerous.”

Elio frowned even more, and his eyes shone with tears.

“You didn’t think that when we fucked, though,” he bit back.

Oliver nodded.

“Fine. I’ll leave, now. I’ll come back later, maybe you won’t hate me, then.”

And he got up, with one last look, and quietly closed the door behind himself, while Elio watched him leave for the second time.

 

 

 

Elio thought and thought and thought. He didn’t hate Oliver. He didn’t at all. He didn’t know what was happening. He just knew he needed to protect his unborn child; it was an instinct, as if his brain had a will of its own. But was it right, for him to have to protect it from its own father?

Elio closed his eyes, trying desperately to clear his head. No, it wasn’t right. And he missed Oliver. He wanted to kiss him. He wanted to be kissed.

That night he went looking for Oliver, and he found him out on the patio, drinking from a bottle of beer. Quiet.

Elio padded up to him, barefoot, an oversized jumper hanging over his arms and waist.

“Hey.”

“Better now?”

Elio looked down.

“I didn’t mean to be an asshole.”

He wrapped his arms around himself, over his stomach. Oliver cleared his throat.

“Let me take you to the doctor tomorrow. I think it would be good. For both of us.”

Both of us. Something warm flared up inside Elio’s chest. He looked at Oliver, whose eyes were calm, expectant. He nodded, and offered a little smile.

 

 

 

 

The doctor was efficient and quick in her assessment.

“You’re six weeks along. Really early, but foetuses develop rather quickly in the first trimester of omega pregnancies.”

She moved the wand over Elio’s tummy, and he flinched at the cold of the gel, and the weird sensation of a stranger touching him there.

“Here. You see? That little dot right over there. That’s the embryo.”

Elio watched the screen, speechless. He heard Oliver clearing his throat. He risked a glance at him. He was looking back, at Elio. His eyes blinking.

“Now, thinking about the delivery - your pelvis is smaller than average. Even carrying the baby to term will be challenging. But with adequate help and rest, you should be able to grow and birth your baby.”

Doctors never considered any other alternative to a baby being born; not if it hadn’t been suggested by the patient first.

Elio turned to Oliver again, biting hard on his lower lip. His emotions were threatening to scramble all over the place again.

“Thank you, doctor,” Oliver smiled tightly. “We will make sure Elio is looked after.”

And that made Elio almost sob.

 

 

 

 

 

“How are you going to tell your parents?”

Elio climbed out of the car, and leant against it, waited for Oliver to join him.

“Tell them what?”

“You know what. That you’re pregnant. That you’re going to have this baby.”

Elio let out a breath.

“It depends,” he replied. Should he try his luck? Push this? He may as well. The signals Oliver was giving off now were much different from what he’d been saying until a day ago. “Do I tell them that I will have to do it alone?”

He was scared to, but he looked up, watched carefully for Oliver’s expression to change, for him to scowl, to set his jaw. But he didn’t. He looked back at Elio, calmly, and then his lips stretched into a small smile.

“My child is inside you,” he said. He took a step closer; his hand, soft, rested on Elio’s tummy, and Elio moved his hands away to let him touch. “It’s real. It’s true. And if you want to do this, then - I want this too. I want you to give me this child.”

Such an Alpha thing to say - and Elio felt his body react. Like a call to his innermost self, like a switch deep inside his core that told him to give himself to his Alpha, give him everything.

“I want to give it to you.”

He had just whispered it, his voice as if gone from his throat, but Oliver had heard him loud and clear. It was done; it was a promise. An agreement.

Elio watched Oliver smile then, and come closer, until he could lean down and kiss Elio on the lips. Warm, slow, deep. A long, leisurely kiss, Oliver’s hand still on Elio’s abdomen burning and warming him up even more. Elio ready to go to bed with him, get undressed and feel his alpha’s naked body against his.

“Yeah?” Oliver asked, and yes, as everybody said, Alpha and Omega could sometimes communicate almost telepathically.

“Yes,” Elio nodded.

Oliver guided him inside the villa, back to their rooms. Laid on the bed with him. Fucked him, really slowly, and deeply, paying so much attention, and watching so carefully at Elio’s skin going red from sensation, and his face distended, with the surety of their decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok I lied. This story will be in 3 parts. At least. Please leave me a comment and let me know what you think!! Thank you <3


	3. Chapter 3

 

Elio decided he would tell his parents on his own, even though Oliver did offer to be there while he told them.

“I don’t want them to think I don’t care,” Oliver growled softly, his large hands holding onto Elio’s clothed hips. He pushed his lips against Elio’s shirt, on his abdomen.

The shift for him, as an Alpha, was happening a little every day, and he was getting more and more attached to his unborn baby. To Elio.

“They won’t. I will explain. I just think it should be me.”

When Elio told his parents, of course, they had been shocked too. They didn’t say anything for a little while. Annella’s lips, with their perfect rose colour which Elio had inherited, had pursed together in worry. 

“Well, you’re seventeen. I’m not going to say I wanted this for you so soon,” Samuel started. “Does Oliver know?”

“He does. He wants the baby.”

“I want you to make this decision for yourself. I don’t want you to keep the baby because Oliver wants it.”

Elio was really sure and firm when he said, ‘I wanted this first.’ His parents didn’t ask whether they planned to bond - and Elio was grateful. He and Oliver hadn’t talked about it. Not yet.

Annella took him into her arms, and kissed his forehead, and then said, “you’re not feeling well. You’ve been throwing up a lot. We need to make sure you eat, and rest.” She said she had the same when she was expecting him. Elio burrowed into her embrace.

 

 

 

 

“It says sometimes you can cycle even when you’re pregnant, and you don’t know, and then another embryo is created. And then you end up having twins.”

In bed, naked against each other, Elio read a pregnancy book he found in the library. Behind him, spooning him, Oliver spoke against the back of his neck.

“We’re not having twins.”

“How do you know? You just came inside me. You could be creating another baby, right this moment, right here,” and Elio took Oliver’s large hand, placed it low on his belly, which was gently rounded now. He had just started to show. Just.

“We’re not having twins. Or two babies, rather. If you want another one, we can have it right after you have this one. But right now you’re not having two at the same time.”

“I don’t want another one,” Elio said, but shivered at the thought. ‘I want to be pregnant by Oliver all the time,’ his Omega brain supplied. It was getting stronger. ‘I want to give him all the children he wants.’

Oliver kissed the back of his neck, his hand still wide over Elio’s tummy. And Elio thought about bonding. Would Oliver want to? Elio shivered again. He wanted it, and didn’t. He was scared. Of the pain, of how his body and his mind were going to change after.

“Sleep, now,” Oliver said, just when Elio was starting to wonder if he had heard his thoughts.

 

 

 

 

“Can you still swim?” Marzia asked, watching her feet swish in the water. She was sitting on the edge of the fountain they always swam in. Immersed up to his neck in the water, Elio laughed.

“Of course I can still swim.”

“I don’t know. They say there are so many things you can’t do.”

Elio held his breath, plunged himself under; spluttered up to the surface again, enjoying the cold water soaking his hair.

“I can do everything I want,” he said, rubbing water out of his eyes.

“Do you know if it’s a boy or a girl?”

“The doctor said it’s still too early. But also I don’t want to know.”

“Awww!” Marzia cooed at that. “I hope it’s a girl.”

Elio rolled his eyes at that.

“It doesn’t matter to me what it is.”

Marzia swished her feet again.

“Where is the baby going to sleep?”, she asked.

“My old room. We’re staying with my parents for a while. We’ll move out when the baby’s older.”

“With Oliver?”

“Of course. With Oliver.”

Even though we’re not bonded yet, Elio concluded the thought in his mind. He knew Oliver wouldn’t abandon them; him, and their baby.

 

 

 

 

A few weeks later and Elio’s belly had grown, it was certainly visible. He still did everything he’d been doing before he fell pregnant. Oliver grew wary of Elio swimming by himself.

“You’re too wild,” Oliver scolded one afternoon, when he found Elio, bathing in the lake. Elio frowned.

“Why?”

“You’re pregnant. You need to be more careful.”

Elio swam a little further out, frowning.

“I am careful. It’s safe here.”

Oliver just looked at him from the shore. Then undressed, swam to him. Caught hold of his thighs, and wrapped them around his waist. Elio squeaked in surprise - his belly held between his body and Oliver’s, tight - and he wrapped his arms around Oliver’s neck instinctively, to keep himself up.

“I am your Alpha,” Oliver growled on his mouth. Elio had to close his eyes at the sound, the voice going straight between his legs. “You must listen to me.”

And before Elio could even think of a response, he heard himself answer. Nodding on Oliver’s mouth; his eyes closed.

“Yes, Alpha.”

They kissed. A hard kiss, with Oliver’s hands in Elio’s curls. And then Oliver took them back to the shore, laid Elio down on the gravelly sand - hovered above him.

“We should bond,” he said, looking at Elio straight in the eyes. Elio just breathed hard, and nodded.

“Yes.”

He breathed for a few minutes, trying to get his heartbeat under control. He imagined the baby kicking, even though it was too early for that.

He let Oliver pick him up, and take him back to the villa.


	4. Chapter 4

Elio was six month along when they bonded.

 

Like a marriage, to have all the documents in order, there were some preparations to be done, and some time to wait.

Bonding did not require a ceremony per se but it was a family tradition in the Perlman’s household that one should be held. Small, intimate. Just with family members. With a dinner afterwards for close friends, too.

Elio and Oliver signed their papers, the ones with which they swore that, the night of that very same day, they would be bonded. Mafalda helped with the food. Mounir and Isaac attended the dinner, and they both looked at Elio with matching smiles on their faces, both with excitement for him. “We never had a child of our own,” Isaac explained, and Elio nodded, blushed a little. He felt self conscious, having people share that moment with him and Oliver.

The guests carried on their celebrations even as he and Oliver left. Sometimes, people booked a hotel somewhere for their bonding night; but Elio did not want to bond in an impersonal, foreign room. He wanted his own bed. His own walls. His own clothes scattered around, his own smells.

He trembled as Oliver closed the door behind them, and noticed the silence.

“You ok?”

Elio nodded.

“Me ok.”

Elio was not even sure where to start, and so he stood there, a hand on his belly as he waited. Oliver took two steps towards him, nudged his chin up with a hand, and kissed him. Walked him backwards towards the bed as they kissed. He seemed nervous too.

With shaking hands they undressed each other, and Oliver smiled proudly, as he always did when he saw Elio’s naked bump.

“Kneel on the bed. Face the wall,” Oliver asked, and then, when Elio frowned at him: “It will be easier this way.”

Elio wasn’t sure, but when Oliver wrapped him in his arms from behind, and started stroking him, he closed his eyes. It felt good. And it felt good as Oliver pushed inside him, very slowly and gently, as if seeking space in his body.

“That’s it,” Oliver’s voice encouraged.

Instinctively, Elio bowed his head; only aware of the pleasure Oliver was giving him. Oliver’s strong arms secured around his bump, holding him; his orgasm, fast approaching; and then: a sharp, echoing pain. From the nape of his neck. Teeth, sunk into his delicate skin, just below his hairline. Elio cried out, tried to move away but the arms held him in place. The movement nudging Oliver inside him, the connection they had where one ended and the other began. Pain and pleasure, together, at the very same time, and Elio felt like he’d stopped breathing.

 

 

 

 

 

When he blinked next, he was cocooned in soft, warm sheets. They smelled familiar, and that’s how he knew he was in his room. There was an arm around his waist, under the covers, the fingers wide, covering his bump, over his belly button. There was breathing on the side of his throat, and Elio turned, just slightly, but of course he knew it was Oliver.

He ran a finger through the hair on that strong, muscular bicep. He moaned softly; it sounded like a purr.

He felt lips press to his nape and that reminded him, kind of, of what happened, but he didn’t know what time it was or how long it had been. Since the ceremony; since they came here. He flexed his muscles gently to test his body, but he didn’t feel pain. No kicks from his belly; his baby was asleep.

“Are you hungry?” Oliver’s voice murmured, and it sounded gruff. Elio checked his body for hunger too, but no. It wasn’t that.

“I’m okay.”

“You should eat something, though. It’s been nearly eight hours. I’ll bring you some food.”

“No, wait.” Elio turned around, to look at Oliver.

Oliver’s hand cupped his cheek. Gently.

“You’re so beautiful.” Oliver breathed, looking at him, so intensely. “You’re mine.”

His words sparked the memory in Elio’s brain, and he almost whined. They bonded. They’re bonded. He’s Oliver’s. He’s his omega.

He leant close to kiss Oliver and purred again from his chest. He felt complete, like he didn’t need anything else. Just Oliver, and his baby.

Oliver kissed his mouth, and then his chest, his sternum and then the swell of Elio’s abdomen. Softly. So softly.

“What’s happened to me,” Oliver murmured against his skin - and that’s how Elio remembered that this was new for his Alpha, too. The bond had tied them together; and it would get stronger.

Elio ran his fingers through Oliver’s hair. Oliver looked up at him, smiling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooo... who’s reading? Who wants to know more? Should I continue??? :) xx


	5. Chapter 5

“It’s time to take it easy now, Elio,” the doctor said at the next check up. She wrote something down on Elio’s file. “You need to give your body rest, and look after yourself.”

Oliver was with him, since now that they were bonded, legally, he was his guardian. Annella had wanted to go with them too.

Elio rolled his eyes at what the doctor said because he knew that, with both Oliver and his mother there to hear it, he would have no chance of disobeying her orders.

“No running around. Your muscles need to stay tight, and your bump is heavy now. No lifting anything, no climbing. No bike, of course. And -“ and here, she looked straight at him, and then at Oliver, “limited sexual activity, please. A little is fine, but be very gentle.”

Elio had gone kind of scarlet in the cheeks at that. Oliver had just looked serious, focussed.

“The baby is okay, though?” he had asked.

The doctor nodded.

“Yes, the baby is ok, healthy, developing well. Quite a good size already, but that is to be expected, when the father is rather tall. We just need to help Elio’s body carry the pregnancy for as long as possible.” She looked at Elio again. “You have to let nature run its course, darling. It’s not long to go now.”

Elio managed, surprisingly, not to roll his eyes again.

He felt good, just a little heavier every day in his abdomen, but he was nearly seven months pregnant, what did they expect? It was getting tiring to walk. His feet felt swollen, and he hated it. But apart from that - he had a lot of energy, and it was so easy for him to get bored. And the doctor was basically forbidding him from doing anything fun.

When they got home, Oliver took him to bed. “I want you to rest,” he told him, firm. His lips against Elio’s temple. Elio closed his eyes, and willed himself to fall asleep.

 

 

 

 

 

A few days later, one morning, Elio woke up, and Oliver wasn’t with him.

He padded downstairs. His mother was sitting on the couch, next to his father, watching TV.

“Where’s Oliver?” Elio asked.

“He went into town,” his father said. “To meet his editor.”

Elio bit his lip. He felt something. Like a pull. Like anxiety. Why did Oliver leave? Why didn’t he say? Who is his editor? What is he doing?   

He felt weighed down. He wanted to go where Oliver was, too. Why couldn’t he? And the more he tried to breathe, the more he couldn’t.

“Elio? Piccino, what’s wrong?”

He didn’t want his mother to worry.

“I’m okay,” he breathed, with difficulty.

His abdomen hurt. Did he just notice that? Had it been hurting already? For how long?

“Here, Elio. Come here,” his father’s voice, and his father’s hands guiding him to the couch. “Breathe, now. Breathe.”

His tummy gave a spasm, and Elio cried out.

“Shhhh,” Annella soothed. “Shhh. Everything’s fine.”

 

 

 

 

The doctor had come to the villa and checked him over. She said Elio had a panic attack. She checked his tummy, the baby’s position - still breech. It was going to turn; it needed time.

The doctor had declared bed rest for Elio until the end of the pregnancy.

She’d given him something to get him to sleep, and calm down. And so, that’s how Oliver found him when he got back: asleep on the sofa. Breathing slowly. Covered by a heavy duvet; sweaty curls still stuck to his forehead.

 

 

 

 

 

“The bond can cause irrational behaviour sometimes, when it’s still so early,” Annellarelayed the doctor’s words to Oliver, when he got back. She nodded to the glass of grappa in front of Oliver. Drink, it’ll help, Samuel had said as he gave it to him.

“Separation anxiety is very common. And he’s in the advanced stages of a difficult pregnancy. His hormones are affecting his emotions.”

Oliver nodded.

 

 

 

 

 

“Hey,” Oliver had greeted, when Elio woke up. Elio frowned; he remembered, and his hand flew to his belly, to touch. He took a breath.

“Everything’s fine. You just had a panic attack. But the doctor wants you to rest from now on,” Oliver gently said. “And so do I.”

Elio blinked. Still trying to get rid of the confusion the sleeping pills had put him in.

“I thought you were with someone else,” he whispered. “Another omega.”

“Of course not,” Oliver’s voice was firm. Rushed. “Of course not. Why would you think so?”

“You could.” And Elio looked up at him, his eyes wide, big. The green in his irises clear. “You could.”

He didn’t even know why he’d thought so. Because it was obvious, perhaps? Why would Oliver chose just him when he was bed ridden. Huge. Unattractive. And Oliver could have anyone he wanted.

“I am bonded to you. I made a promise. You are having my child. And you’re beautiful. What more could I want?” Oliver said, stroking his curls away from his forehead. Elio’s lips were a beautiful red. “I want you. You’re my Omega, and my only one.”

Oliver kissed him, very gently on the mouth. Elio almost felt like he wanted to cry; his emotions still playing tricks on him.

“Can you stay here with me,” Elio asked softly.

“I will,” Oliver murmured back, kissing his nose, his forehead, and his mouth again. “Sshh. It’s okay. I’m here.” He stroked Elio’s curls behind his ear. “I’m here.”

Elio closed his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who’s reading! I’m loving writing this story. 
> 
> Please leave me a comment if you’re liking this and want me to continue. So much for this being in 2 parts.. :) xx


	6. Chapter 6

The nursery was almost ready.

Samuel and Annella had the bed in Elio’s old room removed, had the walls repainted, a calming cream. The cot, cherry wood, was dressed in a soft yellow. There was a large amber-coloured carpet to cover the marble floor, which made the room even warmer and cosy; a rocking chair was gifted to them by Isaac and Mounir, for Elio to use when nursing.

Elio ran his hand over the edge of the cot. He imagined a small pillow, a little blanket.Hanging toys over it. Teddies everywhere in the room.

He looked down at his bump. It was very prominent on his small frame now; even standing up got tiring after a while. He stroked over his belly button, watched attentively to see if he could spot a movement. The baby had been kicking often now, making him cry out every time a little foot collided with his ribcage.

Elio yawned. The baby was probably sleeping now. He felt a little drowsy, too.

 

 

 

 

Elio mumbled under his breath. He was huddled under his comforter; he felt an arm wrap around his waist.

“Hey, kid,” Oliver murmured in his ear.

Elio blinked. He didn’t know what time it was.

“It’s nearly midday. Do you want to get up, get some food?”

“I want to wash, first. I feel gross,” Elio chuckled, his eyes still closed. “Will you help me?”

“Of course. Come on, let’s go.”

 

 

 

Oliver ran a bath, and helped Elio get in, then got in himself, sitting behind Elio. He washed Elio’s hair, scratching his scalp gently; he rubbed almond scented soap all over his skin.

Elio turned around, and they kissed. 

Soon, he was moaning in Oliver’s mouth, breathing hard and demanding, and Oliver’s hands were all over him.

“Alpha, fuck me, please,” Elio begged on Oliver’s lips, his eyes closed, his words escaping him before he even took notice of them.

Oliver held him by his throat, fingers gently closing around it. He thrust inside him with one kick of his hips; Elio keened, loud, almost sated already just by having Oliver in his body.

Water splashed, inside and outside the tub as Oliver fucked him from beneath. Elio was so sensitive that he came twice; the first time, releasing in the soapy water, the second, he was too spent, but still felt the contractions deep inside, his body relaxing, the tension and pain around his tummy disappearing for a few, precious moments.

 

 

 

“How many children will we have,” Elio whispered against Oliver’s cheek, as they lay on the bed, coming down from their high, his Alpha spooning him and pressing lips to his temple.

“At least three,” Oliver said. “Maybe four.”

He took Elio’s mouth in a slow, deep kiss; Elio let him do it. His eyes closed.

He nodded.

“Three boys. And one girl.” Oliver continued. “You will give me beautiful children. Just like you.”

Elio moaned gently in his throat.

 

 

 

 

 

 

At nearly eight months pregnant, Elio was getting impatient.

The haze he experienced when intimate with Oliver helped him forget the hardships of pregnancy, but they returned soon after: the pains, the aches, the nausea, feeling uncomfortable all the time. His baby was growing fast, taking space on his small frame. As the doctor kept saying, it definitely took after Oliver in terms of size.

Elio’s legs and feet felt swollen very often now, and the baby kicked every day, and it hurt. His muscles spasmed under the bump, his skin tight around it. His nipples were starting to ache, too.

“I just want to give birth now,” Elio grumbled with Marzia, when she came to visit. “Nine months is too long to wait.”

“I can’t blame you,” Marzia nodded, drinking from the cup of hot chocolate Mafalda made them.

The baby kicked again; Elio held his breath, massaging a spot on his belly. His abdomen spasmed.

“Fuck.”

“Are you okay?” Marzia eyed him worriedly.

“No. I’m so over this.” He grimaced again. “It really hurts.”

“I’m sorry. But you still have to wait, it’s not time yet.”

“I want my baby now. This is boring.” Elio frowned, and bit his lip when he felt the baby move again.

Marzia placed the empty mug back on the table, and curled up on the couch with her legs underneath herself.

“Ok. Let me distract you. Tell me what names you chose.”

“Mmh,” Elio gave her a look. “Nope. ‘S private. A secret.”

“Yours and Oliver’s?”

Elio nodded.

“Oliver will have to pretend he chose the name at the registry. But it was me. I chose it.”

He smiled, pleased with himself; and Marzia smiled too, happy that she got him to feel better for a few moments.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So.... do you think it will be a boy or a girl? ;)


	7. Chapter 7

“I wish I could give birth here,” Elio murmured one night. Lying in bed, with Oliver - his parents had put a tv in his room since he now was confined to bed rest. “I don’t want to go to the hospital.”

Oliver leant over to kiss him on the forehead.

“You can’t. The doctor said a home birth really wouldn’t be possible.”

Elio looked away, towards the window. The night sky was clear.

“I know.” He swallowed. “I’m scared.” His hand stroked his belly, slowly. It was so big now.

“You will be brave.” Oliver’s voice was so sure and firm, and he looked into Elio’s eyes. “I know you will.”

Elio couldn’t help but gaze back. Oliver had this capacity to chain Elio to him; Elio wondered if it was just him, or all Alphas could do that to their Omegas.

“But it will hurt.”

“It will hurt, and it will go on for a while, but I will be there, and the doctor too, and you will be in good hands and you will be brave. And you will give me a child at the end of it,” Oliver said, and kissed his lips.

Elio took a deep breath.

 

 

 

 

 

Elio was always anxious every time Oliver left the villa, no matter for how long.

“I’m only going to Pandino to buy cigarettes.”

“I want to come with you. Please.”

“No. It’s out of the question.”

Elio held his hands around his bump, stood by the bed, hair in disarray and eyes red.

“I don’t want to stay in bed anymore! You won’t even let me go downstairs,” he whined, his voice raised.

“Elio. Stop. You’re upsetting the baby.”

“Why don’t you care about me being upset! It’s not always about the baby - the baby’s fine! I’m not!” Elio’s eyes were full of tears.

Oliver was on him in two strides.

His hand into Elio’s hair, fingers clutching the strands and tilting Elio’s head back, the other hand on Elio’s hip, Oliver sank his teeth into the side of Elio’s throat. Elio sobbed, and closed his eyes, angling his head back even more to give him space to bite. To give him what he needed.

“You will be fine,” Oliver growled softly against Elio’s neck, a few long moments later. He licked the indentation his teeth had left on the skin, gently. “Shhh. You’re  the strongest omega I know. And I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

The turmoil Elio felt inside dissipated. The cramps in his tummy slowly calmed down; he kept his eyes closed, listening to Oliver. He let his head get clearer, very slowly.

Oliver picked him up in this arms, supporting him under his knees and shoulders, and Elio fastened his hands around Oliver’s neck with a soft yelp. It was incredible how Oliver could still lift him up so easily, even though he was so big now.

Still holding him up in his arms Oliver kissed him, passionately, and Elio gripped him harder around the neck and whimpered in his mouth. Fuckfuckfuck.

In only a few steps Oliver walked back to their bed and lowered him onto the mattress, head on the pillow.

“Now will you wait here for me?” Oliver asked, looking at him in the eye, but it wasn’t really a question. Elio kissed him again, softly; and nodded on his mouth.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Perhaps he’d been so nervous and anxious because he knew something was going to happen soon.

Elio woke up one morning to his usual soreness around the belly. He rubbed it absentmindedly, pouting to himself. He thought about what to do. He didn’t feel hungry. Perhaps he’d only have some orange juice.

He only managed to make his way to the bathroom to pee, when he felt a cramp tear through his abdomen, making him cry out.

He felt wet between his legs; he felt nauseous all of a sudden. Lightheaded.

“Oliver!” he called. His heart started beating fast. “Oliver!”

He made it back to the bedroom and sat on the edge of the mattress, clutching his belly when another searing cramp tore through him. “Oliver,” he sobbed.

He was relieved to hear the sound of footsteps, and then Oliver appeared, followed by Annella. Oliver knelt in front of him. 

“What’s wrong, Elio?”

“He’s in labour,” Annella said after one look at her son. She stroked his cheek, looked at his red face, his wide, scared eyes, and then walked to the phone. “I’m calling the ambulance.”

“I don’t know what happened, I - got up and then everything started hurting,” Elio sobbed, eyes looking straight at Oliver. “I- I think my waters broke.”

Oliver stroked his thumb over his lower lip, over his cheekbone, smearing away the tears there.

“Shhh. Everything will be fine. We’re here. Everything will be okay.”

Elio cried out again as pain shot though his abdomen again.

For the first time, Oliver looked unsure. Tentative. Scared.

“Annella?” He called, looking at Elio’s face, the tears streaming down his cheeks.

“It’s fine, sweetheart. The ambulance is coming.” She sat next to Elio, and stroked his curls gently. They were already starting to stick to his forehead with sweat.

“It hurts, mama,” Elio cried, tried to catch his breath. He hid his face into her chest. 

“Breathe, tesoro,” Annella stroked his cheek, held him against herself. “Everything is fine. We will go to the hospital, and you will have your beautiful child. You’ll see.”

Elio sobbed again, and clutched Oliver’s hand.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: this isn’t graphic, but as I know things like these can be sensitive for some people, please know the following chapter is about Elio giving birth. Xx

For the whole ride to the hospital, Elio tried hard not to cry, but the contractions, while still spaced out, were already quite strong, and made him sob.

Oliver sat next to him and kissed his hair, murmured soothing words to him, and Elio tried to concentrate on his voice.

The doctor checked him over at the hospital.

“It’s still a while to go, darling,” she said, putting her surgical gloves away and looking sympathetically at her young patient on his hospital bed. “Rest for now, if you can. I’ll ask the nurse to bring you some food.”

“Why is he in so much pain already?” Oliver asked her quietly before she left the room. Annella, sat next to her son, looked towards them.

“The baby was breech, it has moved a little in the past few weeks but it isn’t fully in position yet. His body is trying hard to fix this, but it might be that we will have to go for a c-section. We’ll monitor the situation in the next few hours.”

Annella gave Oliver a concerned look. She stroked her son’s forehead gently, and stood up.

“I’m going to call your father, Amore. I’ll be right back.”

“Will I have to have surgery,” Elio asked, trying to sit up in bed. Oliver walked over, sat on the chair, held him down.

“Hey. No, they don’t know yet. They will keep an eye on it.”

“But I don’t want to,” Elio cried. “You’re supposed to be in the room. You’re supposed to watch the birth. It’s your child. Alphas should watch their babies being born.”

Probably sensing that Elio was going into panic, Oliver stroked his hair, his cheek with his thumb.

“Kiddo, it’s fine. It’s fine. They have to do what’s safe for both of you. And I want that. They will give me my child as soon as he’s born. It will be fine, I promise.”

He leaned down, kissed Elio gently on the mouth.

Oliver spent the night with Elio. Sat on a chair next to his bed; stroking his hair, slowly; talking to him about their baby, softly, to get him to doze off, even if for a little while.

“He will have the shape of your mouth and the shape of your eyes. He will have your freckles. He’ll be curly haired, like you,” he said, like a lullaby.

“How do you know it’s a boy?” Elio murmured, his eyes closed.

Oliver chuckled softly.

“I can feel it. I can just feel it.”

 

 

 

 

 

The contractions Elio started to feel towards the end of the day were different. They were stronger, happening more often ; Oliver held his hand though them, while Elio whimpered but set his teeth, tried to be brave.

Soon, however, it was too much.

It became a little bit like a blur. The doctor told him to breathe. Oliver held his hand, pressed his mouth against his sweaty temple. Elio tried to push when he was told to.

His body was tired and in pain, he didn’t know how long he could go on for.

“Push, Elio,” the doctor asked again.

He turned towards Oliver; saw the look on his Alpha’s face. Concerned; proud.

Elio wanted to give him his baby more than anything in the world.

He grit his teeth, and pushed again, crying out for the effort; his cheeks streamed with tears.

“Just a little bit longer, sweetheart,” he heard the doctor say. He couldn’t see her face through his tears. “Your baby is almost here.”

“You’re doing so well,” Oliver murmured against his cheek. “You’re beautiful.”

Elio grit his teeth again, and started to push.

 

 

 

 

 

 

When he woke up, it took him a while to remember where he was.

There was a monitor next to him, there was a beeping sound coming out of it. The walls were white. He couldn’t really move his arms.

His tummy felt sore. His whole body felt sore. He was so tired.

“Hey,” he heard Oliver’s voice gently call.

And then he remembered.

“Where’s my baby?” He asked, his heart rate spiking up. Already frantic. “I want my baby. Where’s my baby?”

“Shhh,” Oliver stroked his hair. “Shh. Everything’s ok. He’s right here. Wait.”

Oliver got up and walked to a small cot in the room with them. He picked up a little bundle wrapped in a white blanket.

Elio sat up, very slowly, very carefully. And reached out his arms to be given the baby.

“Oh.” The baby’s little face scrunched up in the beginning of a yawn. His tiny hands in fists against his chest. Elio held him to himself. “So. This is him.”

Oliver nodded, a tender smile on his face.

“This is him.”

Elio looked at the baby. He was in awe. He felt scared of touching him. The baby was here. He was real. He was his, and Oliver’s.

Elio wanted to kiss his little forehead.

“Sam,” he murmured gently to him. “Hi, Sam.”

“He’s beautiful. And such a good kid, already. Slept here next to you for the pastfour hours.”

“He’s tired, too,” Elio said softly. He touched the baby’s hand with a finger. Reverently. “I’m tired, baby. But I’m so happy you’re here.”

“You two should have another nap,” Oliver said. “I’ll put him back in his bed. He’ll be right here while you sleep. Is that okay?”

Elio nodded. His eyes were almost closing already, but he wanted to keep looking at his son so desperately.

Oliver smiled, tenderly.

“He’ll be right here when you wake up. And so will I.”

Elio watched Oliver hold their baby into his arms. And then he closed his eyes again.

 

 

 

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

Marzia squealed as soon as she clapped eyes on the newborn.

“Oh my god! He’s the cutest!”

Still half reclined on his hospital bed, Elio held the baby, and smiled with pride. It had been three days, but he wasn’t allowed to leave the hospital yet as he was still being monitored.

“Look at his adorable little nose,” Marzia came closer, looking down at the baby, who was napping and smacking his lips sometimes in his sleep, as if he were dreaming about dinner time. “What color are his eyes?”

“They’re kind of dark blue at the moment but they will change,” Elio said. He nuzzled his nose against Sam’s, very gently. He smelled so good. He smelled like Oliver.

“He’s not an Omega,” Marzia said, more of a statement than a question. She was a Beta, but she was able to tell through scent what gender someone was - everybody could.

“No. But we don’t know yet if he’ll be an Alpha or a Beta. It’s too early.”

Marzia nodded. “And how are you feeling?” She looked down, at the tubes still sticking out of Elio’s arm; a monitor still steadfastly counted his heartbeats.

“My tummy hurts. They had to operate in the end because...because I couldn’t give birth naturally. And my hips are small. My tailbone was going to break.”

“Yikes,” Marzia bit her lip. She was stroking Sam’s little fist while she listened.

“They had to sedate me but I lost a lot of blood, so I felt really weak. It’s fine now, though.”

“When can you leave?”

Elio sighed, but he smiled down at Sam, as the baby gurgled quietly.

“I don’t know yet. They won’t say. I can’t really walk, though, so it’s going to be another few days,” he said. “But Sam is going with Oliver to see his parents.”

Marzia’s eyes went wide. “To America??”

“Yeah.” Elio kept his eyes on the baby. Watched his eyelids flutter. His own eyes were filling with tears again. Hormones, and the thought of being separated from his son. “For his christening. By law it has to happen in the first ten days after a baby is born. In front of the Alpha’s parents.”

Marzia nodded again, but her eyes were worried, observed Elio carefully. “Does it mean he might move to America one day with Oliver, then?”

She looked like she regretted her question as soon it left her lips. Elio raised his eyes, stared at her.

“If he goes, then I’m going with him.”

Marzia nodded again, and looked down, at the baby who still slept, oblivious to the world.

 

 

 

 

 

 

On his fifth day after the birth, Elio was finally allowed home. He didn’t need his tubes or monitors anymore; but he had to stay in bed as much as possible for at least another week, to let his wounds heal.

That day Oliver came into the bedroom, suitcase packed and ready.

“Kiddo?” he called, checking if Elio was asleep. He padded quietly towards the bed when Elio turned towards him, and bent down, wanting to kiss his lips.

But Elio turned the other way.

Oliver sighed.

“Why are you mad at me?”

“You know why.” Elio pushed up with his hands, and carefully, very carefully, he pulled himself up to sitting, then stood, with a grimace. “Because you’re taking Sam away.”

Oliver watched Elio as he padded over to the cot in the room and picked up the baby. He was awake, although quiet. Elio held him to his chest.

“We’ve talked about this. You know I have to. And you can’t fly, not yet.”

“They wouldn’t want me with you anyway,” Elio said, pressing his lips to the baby’s head. He was upset, and he couldn’t help his tone. “I’m just his Omega mother. I’m not important.”

Oliver didn’t move from where he stood.

“We need to do this. It’s illegal for him not to be christened. And that way, he’ll be registered in my parents’ will.”

Elio rolled his eyes - but he knew this was important. For Sam’s future, if nothing else.

In his arms, the baby gurgled again, and whined softly.

Elio felt his eyes sting.

“I don’t want him to go.” He sat on the bed; suddenly very tired.

Oliver sighed again, and walked slowly over to them.

“He’s my child. Right?” He asked. And waited. “Elio?”

Elio nodded. A tear running down his cheek.

“Yeah.”

“I want to make sure he is also my child in front of the law. So he can be protected and have the rights that he deserves. As my son.”

Elio sobbed gently, and looked away. Oliver nudged his chin back towards him, and bent down, kissing his mouth - and this time, Elio let him.

“We will be back in two days. It will be quick, I promise. And I’ll look after him so well.”

Oliver kissed him again. It was nice; Elio loved being kissed by him. He missed it. Things had been so dramatic the past few days, and between his injuries and people coming and going, they hadn’t spent any time alone.

But still, he felt so protective over Sam; he didn’t want to be separated from him, not even for a day. Not even for an hour. He felt like crying. It was so unfair.

A knock on the door, and Annella peered in.

“Your taxi is here, Oliver. Samuel is waiting for you downstairs to help you with the little one.”

Oliver nodded, and Annella walked over to her son, stroking a stray curl away from his forehead. And of course, noticing the tears on his face.

“What if they don’t let Sam come back, Mama?” Elio asked quietly, a sob hidden in his words. He was staring down at the baby, still holding him tightly in his arms, which were now trembling.

“Of course he’ll come back.” Annella cupped his cheek with a hand, stroked his skin with her thumb, soothingly. “He’ll come back so soon. We would never let him be separated from you.”

Sam squealed softly; and then, his tiny forehead scrunched up, wrinkling, his hands closing in small fists as he hiccupped and started crying, as if he knew what was happening.

“Elio.”

Oliver had stepped closer. He knelt in front of Elio; looked up into his teary eyes.

“Elio. I know this is difficult. I hate having to do it. But I promise you, Sam and I will be back, in two days, back to you. And then we will never leave again.”

Elio blinked. Oliver continued.

“You gave me my gorgeous son. And I love you. I love you both, more than anything in the world.” He took a breath. “Just two days, my love. And then we will be a family, and we will never separate again.”

Oliver kept looking into Elio’s eyes, which were now wide. He was hiccupping softly, just like Sam was.

Oliver leant up, and slowly, very slowly, kissed him on the mouth. Gently, but it deepened soon; Elio closed his eyes.

In his arms, Sam had quietened, and now just gurgled gently, a little calmer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure how many are still reading.. but this story is about to end. 
> 
> Do leave me a comment if you’re liking this - let me know if you’d like to read more, or if I should end it? 
> 
> Xx


	10. Chapter 10

“Elio? Non vieni?”

Annella had been trying to get him to come and join her and Samuel at the table for a while now.

Elio felt slightly better, physically, and could brave going down the stairs and back up a couple of times a day. But now, he chose to stay on the sofa, right next to the telephone, not moving, in case it rang.

“No. I’m not hungry.”

Annella and Samuel shared a look.

“You need to eat something, Elly Belly,” Samuel said. He exchanged another look with Annella, and she stood, picked up a plate with some bread, cheese, and fruit, and brought it over to Elio.

“Come on, tesoro. Eat something. You need your strength.”

Elio gave the plate a look, and then turned around, back to stare at the phone, waiting for it to ring with a call from America.

 

 

 

 

 

 

“He said two days,” Elio sniffled, face against his pillow which was soaked with tears. His expression hardened.“I hate him.”

Samuel sat down next to him on the bed, and placed a hand on his back.

“No, you don’t... Don’t say that, son. He’s your Alpha.”

Samuel cared about the emotional connection, more than laws or social rules - Elio knew. But it didn’t matter.

“I hate him.”

Samuel sighed.

“He’ll be back on Saturday. Not long to go.”

Elio hid his face into the pillow.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Omegas were usually pretty tame creatures, submissive, in general, and obedient to their Alphas.

But not when it came to their children.

They could become rather feral, survival instinct and a desire to protect their offspring taking over their mind completely. And so Elio ran down to the car, breath laboured, and took Sam from the arms of the Beta nanny who’d assisted Oliver with his return. Elio growled at her, deep in his chest, as he held his baby in his arms - and she knew to stay out of it.

“Sammy,” he murmured to him. “Sammy. Baby. Sammy.”

He went back into the house before Oliver could even say hi.

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Elio? Will you open the door?”

Oliver had been trying for the past three hours, but Elio had locked himself in his bedroom with Sam, nor responding to any of his calls.

“Elio!”

“We should give him some more time,” Annella said.

Oliver looked at her, and frowned. He knocked on the door again.

“Elio. Sam is my son. Open this door!”

He was getting more frantic, an Alpha bereft at his Omega denying him, his bondtesting their emotional connection, like pulling at a rope beyond capacity.

“Oliver,” Annella tried again. “Let me talk to him.”

Oliver snarled quietly to himself, took a breath, and then nodded.

 

 

 

 

 

Elio opened the door for her but then curled up again on the bed, next to his baby boy, who was sleeping peacefully. He wasn’t looking at Annella as she sat down next to him, and reached a hand to stroke his hair.

“Come sta il piccolino?” She asked how Sammy was doing.

“I fed him an hour ago. I changed him and now he’s sleeping again. He’s fine, he’s with me,” Elio responded, it sounded like a grumble, and he not once took his eyes off the baby.

“I know you’re upset. But this is not good for anyone, tesoro... not for the baby, not for you, not for Oliver. Not good for your bond.”

“He lied to me, Mama,” Elio said, his words almost muffled into his pillow. “He told me he loved me, he told me two days, but he lied. He kept Sammy. He lied.”

Annella sighed, sadly.

“You should let him talk to you,” she said softly, stroking Elio’s hair. “Give him a chance to explain. You know he wouldn’t hurt you on purpose. He’s in pain now, without you.”

“He just wants to take Sammy again,” Elio growled instead, setting his jaw, his eyes still fixed on the sleeping baby. “That’s all he wants.”

“Piccino, your bond is suffering, and is affecting your thoughts,” Annella explained gently. “Let Oliver talk to you, let him make this better. This is not good for anyone. It’s very dangerous. And I don’t want to see you in pain.”

Elio knew it was true. Somewhere, in the fog of his brain, he knew his first instinct was to think of his baby, but he needed his Alpha, too; he needed his bond. He needed his touch. He needed things to be okay between them.

 

 

 

 

 

 

“I just want to make sure you feel okay to talk to him,” Samuel said, very seriously, stopping Oliver in his tracks.

“What do you mean?”

Samuel took a breath, but did not move from the door, nor did he lose the grave look he had in his eyes.

“Elio’s still weak, still injured. The baby’s with him. Alphas sometimes can be unpredictable. I want to make sure you have full control of yourself.”

Oliver blinked.

“I would never hurt him.”

Samuel nodded.

“Alphas and Omegas have physical ways to communicate a lot of the times,” he continued. “Just make sure you’re gentle with him.”

Oliver nodded, too.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Elio sat back on the bed as soon as he finally opened the door for Oliver. His back to the headboard, his knees pulled up to his stomach defensively. His wounds were still tender, but healing, and he ignored the sting from them in favour of feeling safer.

“Is Sam in his bed?” Oliver asked, taking a few steps inside the room. He sounded tentative.

“Yes, he’s sleeping,” Elio said. His eyes flashed.

“I just wanted to check he’s okay. I’m not going to do anything,” Oliver rushed to add. Then, tentatively: “Can I sit on the bed?”

He waited for Elio’s nod. Then he sat on the edge of the mattress, facing him.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I hurt you. But I want us to be okay again. For us, and for Sam. I miss you.”

“You promised me,” Elio said, quietly. “You promised me, and then you took my baby. And I didn’t know when you were going to come back.”

He knew he had no rights; legally, the baby was Oliver’s. Not his; not an omega’s. Oliver could take Sam away, if he wanted.The thought made his heart beat fast, his insides curdling. He felt like growling again.

The law deciding one thing couldn’t stop his nature of Omega mother from wanting to protect his baby at any cost.He would die for him.

“I am sorry,” Oliver said. “The process took longer than I thought. The bureaucracy...it was out of my hands.” He sighed. “I really didn’t plan on hurting you, or making you worry. I did mean what I said.”

Elio lifted his chin, defiant.

“What is it that you meant? You said many things.”

Oliver cleared his throat. He thought for a moment; then, slowly, he moved closer to Elio.

“I meant it when I said everything’s going to be fine.” Slowly, so slowly, he reached out a hand, and smoothed a curl away from Elio’s forehead. “I meant it when I said I love you. I love you, Elio.”

He ran his thumb over Elio’s lower lip. Reverently.

“I love you, and I love him. Our son. More than anything in the world. And I’m sorry.” He looked into Elio’s eyes.

It was the first time he referred to Sam as ‘their’ son - not just his; Elio returned the gaze, but his own eyes were starting to fill with tears.

“How do I know that you won’t take Sam away. Away from me?” He sniffed. “I want to watch him grow up.”

“Oh, love.” Oliver closed his eyes; and then he nuzzled his nose against Elio’s. Slowly, gently. His lips almost touching the Omega’s, in the ghost of a kiss. A caress.

“You have to believe me. I would never do that. We are a family. I would never take Sam away from you. Not him, not any of the other children we will have.”

When Oliver kissed him, Elio had to kiss back. Even through his tears; he’d missed him so much. His body reacted as if it were being given fresh water after a long drought: thirsty, wanton. Relieved. Breathing again.

They kissed for a few long minutes, Oliver’s palm cupping Elio’s cheek, deepening the kiss, until Elio was moaning gently into his mouth; his muscles less rigid, his legs no longer bent up in a barrier between them, but softer, so that Oliver could come closer. Elio wished he wasn’t still in recovery. He wanted Oliver inside him.

And then a wail. High-pitched; continuing into a fully-fledged cry.

Elio laughed gently against Oliver’s mouth, making him break the kiss.

“Alpha. I think your son is asking for you.”

Oliver chuckled softly too, and looked down, then back up to Elio. His eyes glimmering.

“Ah, yes. Duty calls.” He gave Elio another peck on the lips, and then got up, padding to the cot where the cries were coming from.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! This was a long chapter! 
> 
> The next one was meant to be the epilogue. As I mentioned to someone - I thought people weren’t reading/interested! I will never, ever be bold enough as to think readers are liking a story - unless you tell me! 
> 
> I’m grateful to whoever followed me in this story too - please do comment and let me know what you think. And I’m happy to continue it, if there’s interest! Xx


	11. Chapter 11

Elio looked at himself in the mirror. He smoothed a few curls back from his forehead. Tried to push one back behind his ear, but it bounced back immediately. As usual. He growled softly at his reflection.

“What are you up to?”

Oliver came into the bathroom; he gave Elio a look, and smiled. He walked behind him, and wrapped his arms around the boy’s waist, his head leaning on Elio’s shoulder. 

“Trying to fix my hair but it’s all stupid,” Elio growled again, frustrated. He stopped messing with his curls, and his hands went to lay on Oliver’s, interlinked on his tummy.

Three months after Sam’s birth, Elio was back to his old self - maybe thinner, because of all the running around he had to do to look after a newborn, and the sleepless nights. Sam was a good kid during the day, but he wasn’t overly fond of sleeping past four in the morning.

Elio’s tummy had healed, although the surgery scar was still there, still evident. But Elio couldn’t feel self-conscious about it. He’d gotten a scar, but he’d gained his son - and he was crazy about him.

“I think you look gorgeous,” Oliver murmured against the side of Elio’s throat, looking at him through the reflection in the mirror. And Elio actually blushed.

“Stop, you. Actually, no, don’t stop. Tell me more,” he giggled. He turned around in Oliver’s arms, his backside against the sink, and let Oliver kiss him.

“I can show you, if you want.” Oliver deepened the kiss. His pelvis pushed against Elio’s; he pinned the boy between himself and the sink, made him moan into his mouth.

Until Elio broke the kiss, and spoke, breathless.

“Hey, no, I have - Marzia expects me in Moscazzano in thirty minutes.” And then, at Oliver’s playful huff of protest: “It will take us at least twenty just for my dad to drive us there. And I still need to get Sam ready.”

Oliver pecked him on the lips.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay here with the baby? Give you some space to catch up with Marzia properly? I don’t mind.”

“Thank you. But no. Sam needs to change his surroundings a bit.”

Oliver smiled.

“He’s a three month old child. He doesn’t know where he is.”

“Does too,” Elio protested, frowning playfully.

He and Oliver had already discussed today’s excursion into town. Elio and Marzia were going to meet at the piazzetta, possibly get ice cream, take Sam on a walk in his new stroller. Oliver was going to pick Elio and Sam up a couple of hours later in Samuel’s car.

“All right.” Oliver looked into Elio’s eyes, which were glimmering with anticipation, and sighed, pushing aside his own worries once again. He went for another kiss; Elio linked his hands tighter behind Oliver’s neck, and opened his mouth for Oliver’s tongue.

They had to break the kiss, before it all became too much, and ruined their plans.

“You know,” Elio murmured on Oliver’s mouth. “I’m going to go on birth control as soon as the doctor says I can. She said I have to wait for my next heat to come and go first.”

Oliver just looked at him, and Elio added, “If that’s okay with you.”

Elio’s Omega nature did things to Oliver, every time it manifested itself in one way or another. Oliver had to take another deep breath.

“How long do you have to be on it for?”

“I can be on it for as long as I need, but,” and Elio looked down, then back up at Oliver, “the doctor said it would be good if I could be on birth control for a couple of years at least.”

Oliver gazed back at him. Cleared his throat.

“Sure, yeah. Of course.”

He didn’t think he could reason properly. He let Elio go, so he could get his jacket - it was kind of a windy day, for July in the north of Italy - and then get ready for his date with his best friend.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

After dinner Elio had taken Sam upstairs to get him changed for the night, and when Oliver went to look for them, he found them on the bed, Elio sitting and bouncing Sam on his knees, making the baby giggle. Sam had recently learnt to smile, and was constantly beaming, and Elio couldn’t stop making faces at him, making voices, in the hope of seeing him smile more and more.

Oliver stood by the entrance, watching them for a little while, as Elio cooed, and kissed Sam on his lips, his chin, his temples, everywhere.

“I love you baby,” Elio murmured against Sam’s cheek.

He was such a natural at this. He was such a wonderful parent to Sam. He looked beautiful with their baby in his arms.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Elio’s heat came a day earlier than expected.

They were prepared, though. Mafalda, Annella and Samuel were all going to look after Sam. Elio had fluffy blankets and his favorite comforter in their bedroom, and water, and luckily, he was going to be able to see Sam during those brief moments of respite he experienced after being with Oliver.

And it only lasted for three days, anyway.

“No, no Oliver,” Elio whined, on the last day, Oliver’s mouth pressed against his throat, Oliver having already worn the condom. “No, Alpha. Take it off. Please. I need it.”

His eyes were closed, his chest pumped hard, his breath laboured and agitated. Oliver just felt like growling.

“Elio.”

“Please, Alpha,” Elio begged again. He grabbed Oliver’s wrist, the hand which had two fingers deep inside Elio. “Please.”

The need was so intense that Oliver felt blinded by it. He could never reason properly in these moments, downright at the mercy of his rut, of his own response to his Omega’s pleas, smells and pheromones.

Elio’s trembling hand started to pull the condom off, and so Oliver helped him, until it was all the way off. The feeling of being inside him, naked, with no barriers, was the best in the world, after all, and he fucked into Elio hard, listening to his moans and cries and responding to each and every one of them with a growl of his own. 

 

 

 

 

 

“We were so stupid,” Elio cried, sat on the bed. Hair in disarray.

It had been two days since the end of his heat. Once the haze dissipated, he could go back and recall what happened. They both could. And their most recent encounter was vivid in their minds now.

Oliver looked at him.

“It happens.”

“I know it happens but now what? I can’t get pregnant again.” Elio racked his fingers through his curls anxiously. “Fuck.”

“You won’t,” Oliver said.

“How do you know? I could well be. Right now, already!”

“Hey, hey,” Oliver sat next to him, grabbed his hand by the wrist to still it. “We don’t know. Let’s worry about it when it happens.” He paused for a moment. “And even if you were...would it really be that bad?”

“No, fuck Oliver, you know that’s not what I mean.” Elio took a breath. Fixed bright eyes into Oliver’s. “But I just had a baby. I just had a pregnancy, I was pregnant three months ago and I - it’s too soon. I can’t.”

Oliver sighed. He stroked Elio’s hair, calmly. Gently.

“You can. You’re the strongest person I know. I’ve seen you do it, I’ve seen you give birth. I see you with our son every day. You’re a wonderful parent, and you’rebeautiful. And you’re not alone, because I love you, and I will be here too. Whatever happens.”

A tear escaped Elio’s eye, ran down his cheek. But he wasn’t sad. He nodded; and Oliver kissed him.

 

 

 

 

 

A week later, Elio came running out on the patio. Oliver was standing by the fountain, near the apricot trees, holding Sam in his arms, rocking him gently after his lunch.

“I took a test,” Elio said, looking up into Oliver’s face. “I’m not pregnant.”

“Oh.” Oliver stroked Sam’s back. “You should have told me, I could have been with you.”

“It’s no big deal. It was fine.”

Oliver nodded. Sam had dozed off; he gently placed him into the stroller they’d brought out in the garden.

“I told you it would all be okay.”

“Yeah.” Elio walked closer to the apricot tree, under its branches that brought shade. Oliver could tell something was amiss.

“You’re not happy?”

Elio’s eyes were wide. A little bit lost.

“No, I mean... I am. I think so. But. I mean.” He paused, breathed. “I wouldn’t have minded, actually. If I were pregnant.”

And Oliver’s eyes were wide too. He looked at Elio; then reached out his hand, took Elio’s wrist, pulled him close. He could smell the apricots, and they were ripe, plump, just like Elio’s lips.

“When you told me you would go on birth control, and the doctor said two years, I thought, we can’t wait that long. Not two years. I wanted to have another baby. Soon.”

He was speaking on Elio’s lips, and they opened, breathed with him.

“I want to.” Elio closed his eyes for a moment. “I do.”

“One year? And then we try again,” Oliver murmured.

“Yes.” Elio nodded. “Yes.”

They kissed, right there, under that apricot tree. Next to their son, sleeping peacefully in his stroller. As a family, which was about to grow.

 

 

 

 _End of Part 1_

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had so much fun writing this, and I hope you enjoyed it! I definitely would like to write more, if readers want me to. I love them, and I love little Sam! 
> 
> Please leave a comment and tell me what you thought! And thank you for reading. Xx


	12. Chapter 12

*Part 2*

 

 

“I can’t believe my baby is one years old!” Elio said, lifting Sam in his arms, kissing his chin while the baby laughed. “My big boy!”

Marzia watched them, smiling. She zapped through channels on the tv; there was nothing interesting on.

“Da di,” Sam babbled.

“Daddy is at work,” Elio said. “And we’re going to have lunch now.”

Oliver had started working as a teacher at a high school nearby. They taught Greek and Latin, and he felt right at home - although he still dreamt of working at a university. Whether in Italy or back in the States, that still had to be determined.

Sam had just turned one a month prior in April. He was a bright, happy child; he had blue eyes, and Oliver’s dark blonde hair; it was starting to grow out in curls, and Elio couldn’t stop taking pictures of him with his Polaroid camera. He loved him more and more every day.

“Do you think you’ll finish high school?” Marzia asked, as Elio settled Sam on his high chair and gave him his baby food. Promptly, Sam splashed his little hands in it instead of eating it, making Elio roll his eyes.

“Of course I will.” Elio looked up from the mess on the table, blinked at her. “I won’t be able to go to school but I can study on my own. I’ll find some time. I don’t know. But I will.”

Marzia nodded, and left the tv on Canale 5, a game show chitchatting in the background.

“Your mom and Mafalda can look after Sammy when Oliver is working. So then you can study,” she suggested.

“Yeah, I don’t know. I’ll figure it out.”

Elio found it difficult to leave Sam with other people for more than a few hours, even family. He wanted to spend as much time with him as possible.

“It’s hard to study while you’re looking after a baby so little. I mean it’s hard for me, and I don’t have another human being to worry about,” Marzia continued, in her attempt at sympathy. “But it’s going to be even more difficult if you are also pregnant again.”

“I’m not pregnant again,” Elio responded, piqued.

“You’re not but you want to be,” Marzia sing songed, making Elio open his eyes wide.

“How do you know? Did Oliver tell you??”

Marzia shook her head, gave a little chuckle.

“No, of course not. But I can tell.”

Elio narrowed his eyes at her, then went back to looking at Sam. His cheeks felt warm. He hadn’t realised he was so obvious about his plans with Oliver for another child, but he didn’t care. He was almost proud that his intentions showed so clearly.

“Sammy. No, Sammy! Don’t put that in your mouth,” Elio told his son, taking his little hand in his own as the toddler tried with all his might to chew on a plastic toy bunny, which he’d found much more interesting to eat than actual food. The disappointed expression on his face was so adorable that Elio just couldn’t keep up the facade of reprimand, as much as he tried to.

“I would kiss you, but you’ve got soup all over your face and you’re all yucky.”

Elio grabbed a napkin, and cleaned the baby’s mouth and cheeks as best as he could.Sam made a face between laughter and the biggest tantrum he could throw; and Marzia laughed.

Little Sam was such an adorable handful.

“Well, if the next one is a girl, remember to call her Marzia,” she said, and laughed again as Elio stuck his tongue out in her direction.

 

 

 

 

 

“What is that, Sammy?” Elio asked, holding the child in his arms and pointing to the middle of the piazzetta. “What’sthat? Is that a doggy?”

“Ogg,” Sam babbled. He smiled, then gave a kick with his little legs, his signal to be let down so he could go where he wanted. A feat easier said than done, as he couldn’t walk yet - and both Oliver and Elio were relieved to have a few more weeks of not worrying about him running off on adventures.

Elio lowered him to the ground and held his hand, watching his son as he fixed ecstatic eyes on the dog sleeping in the shade in a corner of the piazza, and babbled excitedly.

It was a sunny Sunday and they had decided to go for a walk in town. Oliver had gone to the bar tabacchi to buy cigarettes - although he never smoked around Sam, and he promised Elio he would stop altogether - but when Elio looked up to see if he was done, a young woman was talking to him.

She was blonde, thin, was wearing a long floral dress, and was smiling at Oliver from ear to ear.

Elio’s ears perked up.

A Beta woman. Hitting on his Alpha. 

“Let’s go, Sammy,” he mumbled, picking the child up. He pulled the stroller along as he walked over to them; but he stopped a few steps away, just to watch the situation for a moment.

She was definitely flirting with Oliver. Smiling, and twirling a lock of hair on her finger.

If Elio didn’t know better, he would have said she was in heat.

Pathetic.

Pouting, he crossed the short distance to them, and stopped beside Oliver, pointing hard eyes on the girl.

And when he spoke, he didn’t bother being subtle.

“Can we help you with anything?”

It wasn’t a polite checking in, of course, and the girl’s face changed from pleased to frowning.

“No, thanks,” she said, looking Elio up and down. “And who are you?”

Elio gave her a look.

“I am Oliver’s omega. He’s my Alpha. And this is our son. Nice to meet you,” he said, sticking up his chin, annoyance dripping heavy from his words.

Sam was watching her intently, fascinated as he was with every new person he saw.

“Da di,” he said, pointing at Oliver.

“Ah, Sammy, hey, I’m right here.” Oliver took the baby’s hand, squeezed it lightly, carefully.

The woman frowned even deeper. Elio held Sam tighter to himself, kissed his chubby cheek while staring at her accusingly.

“Well, it was nice to see you Oliver,” the woman said. With one last look to Elio, she turned around, and left.

Elio looked up at Oliver through his eyelashes. It seemed like he could only now realise what he did: chased away Oliver’s acquaintance, not giving him a chance to have a say in the matter. It was not acceptable Omega behaviour.

But the thought disappeared as soon as it came. He was going to face the consequence of his actions, if need be - but he was never going to just watch anyone try to insinuate themselves between him and the father of his child.

“Well, well...” Oliver murmured.

Elio blinked, holding Sam against himself, the child swinging his chubby legs and giving little shrieks while he watched everything around him.

“I mean, if you want to get mad at me, do it, but I wasn’t going to let her hit on you like that.”

Next thing Elio knew, Oliver had his hand around his nape, fingers deep into his curls there, and Elio was being kissed hungrily, urgently. It tore a moan from his throat that he couldn’t stop, and when Oliver slowed the kiss down and just breathed on his mouth, Elio’s face was flushed, his breath laboured.

Oliver had his arm around him and Sam, and only his son’s impatient shriek brought Elio back to reality.

“Want to take you home right now,” Oliver growled, looking Elio in the eyes.

Elio had to take a moment to breathe.

“Sammy’s not going to be happy,” he whispered back. “We promised him ice cream.”

As if on cue, Sam gave another cry; Oliver kissed Elio’s lips.

“Give me this little rascal,” he said, taking Sam from Elio’s arms, and lifting him up to bounce him and kiss his belly when he giggled. “Let’s go and get ice cream then, before someone starts complaining!”

Sam grabbed Oliver’s ear with his little hand, and Oliver pretended to bite his arm, making him laugh and scream.

 

 

 

 

Sam had gone out like a light once they got home, having tired himself out with all the walking he’d tried to do, ending up falling on his diapered bottom most of the times. And once he was asleep, Oliver wasted no time in grabbing Elio from behind by the waist, kissing the side of his throat, walking him back to their bedroom while they tried to kiss. In no time they took their clothes off; Elio straddled Oliver, Oliver’s large hands holding his hips, Elio letting him suck his tongue and bite his lips.

Just as Elio thought they were going to do it this way Oliver flipped them over. Knelt between Elio’s legs, he went down on him, kissed him behind his sex, licked him, made love to him with his mouth.

“Fuck, Oliver,” Elio was only able to hiss, his hand in Oliver’s hair, his abdomen tense and his eyes closed, as he submitted to the feeling of Oliver’s tongue inside him. There was a fire in his belly, and Elio spasmed, came all over himself. When Oliver pushed inside him he was exhausted, but his contractions didn’t taper down until Oliver orgasmed too and his body locked inside Elio’s, leaving them intertwined, to breathe against each other’s mouth.

 


	13. Chapter 13

That night, Sam had been more difficult to put to bed than usual. He’d cried, he’d wanted attention, refused his toys, and Elio had ended up bringing him back to the lounge and sitting on the couch with him in his arms, until the child dozed off to the sound of the tv gently chattering in the background. 

Elio was tired by the time he went to bed. Behind him, Oliver breathed gently against his hair; wrapped his arms around Elio’s waist and pulled him against himself.

“I want to take you away for your birthday,” Oliver murmured.

Elio blinked away the sleep that was just about to grasp him.

“Hmmm?”

“We should go away for one night. Somewhere. To celebrate.”

“Oh,” Elio placed his hand on top of Oliver’s on the mattress, squeezed his fingers. “I mean. It would be nice. But we need to find a child-friendly place, like, you know how Sam sometimes is in restaurants, he gets bored, and what if he cries and people get annoyed...”

“Well. I meant, just me and you.”

“Without Sam?”

Oliver nodded against Elio’s nape.

“Yeah. He can stay here with your parents. I think it would be nice for us to - have some time to ourselves.”

Elio turned half around in Oliver’s embrace, and lay on his back. Played with Oliver’s fingers on his chest.

“We are already going to Milan to see your parents,” he murmured.

“Yeah. Maybe we can go a day early, just us two, and your parents can bring Sam after that.”

Elio sighed.

“I don’t know.”

“Elio. Come on. It would be good to do something different.” Oliver said, nuzzling Elio’s cheek. “I know we’re not going on your actual birthday, but let’s do something. To celebrate.”

Elio looked up into Oliver’s eyes, almost black in the darkness of their bedroom. He blinked, and bit his lower lip.

“Let’s talk more tomorrow,” Oliver suggested, in the way he always did when he considered the decision practically made. He held Elio against his chest, and buried his face into the back of his neck. A few moments later, his breathing slowed down, and Elio knew he was asleep.

 

 

 

 

 

“Do you think Elio is too protective of Sam?” Oliver asked Annella one early morning. He’d got up as Sam was awake, and, for once, Elio had stayed in bed, which meant he was really exhausted.

“I think he’s an attentive parent.” Annella continued sipping her coffee, sat at the kitchen table. She looked at Oliver with her all-knowing brown eyes.

Oliver nodded.

“But sometimes I feel that he’s stressing out too much. Sam is growing up well. I wonder if Elio should be worrying about every little thing like he is.”

“Shouldn’t he?”

Oliver turned the question to her.

“Did you worry so much when he was a baby?”

Annella took the last sip of her coffee, with all the calm in the world.

“I didn’t. But I wasn’t a seventeen year old Omega mother. It’s normal for him to be apprehensive, I think. And Sam is his whole world.”

“He’s my world too. They both are.”

Annella smiled; she got up, and stroked Oliver’s cheek with her hand.

“I know, sweetheart.”

 

 

 

 

 

The cake was made of white cream and cherries, and Sam had a lot of fun trying to grab it with his hands, actually managing to get fluffy sticky sugar all over his hands.

Elio blew his candles in the shape of a nineteen over the cake and then Annella added one single candle for Sam to blow, for luck, much to his delight.

“Non-na,” he babbled, some Italian words starting to bubble up in his speech, together with the English. He was going to grow up tri-lingual, just like Elio.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The day after, Oliver and Elio got ready to go to Milan.

“Be a good boy,” Oliver told Sam, lifting him in his arms. Sam tried to grab his nose. “We’re not starting very well, are we, little rascal?” Oliver chided playfully, pretending to bite Sam’s little hands that were still trying to grab his face, making Sam laugh.

“He’ll have everything he needs,” Annella told Elio. “Don’t worry about anything.”

Elio nodded - of course he trusted his parents. But it was the first time he left Sam to anybody, since his trip to America with Oliver, and he was full of anxiety.

“Sometimes he cries at night but he just needs you to check on him and then he goes back to sleep,” he reminded his mother. “And you know he doesn’t like yogurt so don’t give it to him.”

Oliver gave him the child to hold. Elio kissed Sam’s cheek, his mouth, his nose - like he always did.

“I love you more than anything in the world,” Elio murmured against Sam’s temple. “See you tomorrow. Ok?”

He kissed his cheek again; wishing Sam understood.

“Your taxi is here,” Samuel said then.

Oliver placed his hand on the small of Elio’s back, nudged him gently.

“We need to go, Elio.”

Elio nodded. He gave Sam to his mother; and turned around, let Oliver lead him to the car, didn’t look back, because he wouldn’t have been able to leave if he sawthat Sam was crying.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Elio had been to Milan a few times, but never like this. Just walking around, enjoying the sights, finding places to eat, more places to walk to.

By the time they went for dinner he was pleasantly tired, and distracted enough that he wasn’t worrying about Sam every single second. He cuddled with Oliver, they watched the sunset together. Kissed and held hands while walking back to their hotel.

“You smell different,” Oliver said against the side of Elio’s throat, when he took him in his arms back in their hotel room. “I’ve been noticing all day.”

Elio hid his face against Oliver’s collarbone.

“I stopped taking my birth control,” he murmured. “Two days ago.”

Oliver took his face into his large hands. Leaned down to kiss his lips, and Elio moaned softly against him. He couldn’t wait to spend a heat with Oliver again. It had been too long.

“What do you want to do?” Oliver asked, and it was rare for an alpha to give options - they usually lead the encounters with their partners. But Oliver had changed, matured a lot.

“Can I ride you? Please,” Elio responded with surety, full of desire.

Oliver kissed him again, hard, with passion, aggressive, and Elio loved it, loved to think he could cause his Alpha to be like this. He let himself be pushed backwards to the bed and then dropped down, lay on the mattress with his arms up over his head, letting Oliver cage him and chain his wrists hard with his hands. Oliver always squeezed a little harder than needed, Elio wasn’t going to go anywhere of course, but Elio loved the shadow of pain that Oliver’s grip brought. He loved that he had such a strong Alpha, one who could hold him down, one who was big enough that Elio’s body always had to make space for him inside no matter how many times they fucked, or how many children he had.

He gave a submissive whine, and Oliver growled back, leant down to sink his teeth into the tender side of Elio’s throat. It made Elio close his eyes; he lay very still, feeling Oliver’s teeth, crying out softly when they sank in deeper.

Afterwards, Oliver licked gently over the indentations his teeth had left, and then started undressing Elio. He pulled him on himself once they were both naked. Elio was so wired, so wet, so wanting, that he sank onto Oliver with no hesitation or complaint. 

Oliver held his hips, in a vice grip into his hands, practically grasping him by his sharp hipbones, and guided his movements, slower at first, fast and faster then.

Elio felt oversensitive, delirious with want, he was sweaty, but he relished every sharp stab to his insides, moaned with each of them. So deep, fuck, Oliver, so deep...

By the time Oliver came inside him, Elio hadn’t even realised he’d orgasmed, too, the pleasure absolutely everywhere and overwhelming. They waited for the knot to go down, too tired to kiss, just sharing breath from nose to nose, mouth to mouth.

 

 

 

 

 

 

“We’re seeing Oliver’s parents for lunch,” Elio told Annella over the phone the day after, when he woke up. He’d managed to sleep until 11am - an impossible feat these days with such a young child. But he was anxious to hear from Sam, hear from Annella that everything was okay.

“Okay,” Annella said. “It will be fine, tesoro.”

Elio had never met them. He felt really, really nervous.

They were really rich, really accomplished in their professions; they turned their nose at anyone who wasn’t like them.

They had never once asked about Elio over the past year - only about their grandson, who they doted on. Elio was just the seventeen year old little omega who got knocked up by Oliver.

“I hope so, but dunno,” Elio admitted sincerely, and then sighed. “I can’t wait for you to get here. I miss Sam so much.”

“He misses you too, piccino,” Annella said.

“He’s okay, though, right? He isn’t crying?”

“No. He’s playing with his orsetto. He had breakfast. He’s fine, amore. We’ll see you in a few hours.”

Elio couldn’t wait.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you are reading this story and enjoy it, please leave me a comment! 
> 
> Thank you for the love so far. X


	14. Chapter 14

Oliver’s mother was a tall woman, with fingernails painted red.

That was what Elio would remember, when he thought back to that day. A detail that was so striking, compared to the somber grey coat she was wearing, her dark hair, and the tight expression on her face. 

“And this is your Omega,” she said, when Oliver introduced Elio to her at the restaurant.

She looked Elio up and down, slowly. A look of appraisal, and criticism in her eyes, eyes which, Elio thought, luckily didn’t look anything like her son’s.

“At least he has the looks. We can be reassured that our grandchildren will be good looking.”

She said it in such a calm, calculated voice. Like she actually believed it. Like she thought it was a legitimate thing to say. For her, it probably was.

Elio’s cheeks felt hot, and he looked up at Oliver - but he was avoiding his eyes. His gaze was steely, unfocused. As if he wasn’t listening.

Oliver cleared his throat, and then moved Elio’s chair back for him to sit, then sat down, too.

Elio wished he was a million miles away.

“We’ve been travelling around Milan. Quite an interesting city,” Oliver’s father said, looking at his son. He hadn’t even said hi to Elio.

“Glad you like it,” Oliver nodded, and reached for the bread basket, offered some to Elio. Elio shook his head no.

“It’s been great, but we’re now ready to see our grandson. When is he getting here?”

Oliver made to answer, but Elio spoke first.Seriously, without the hint of a smile.

“Sam and my parents will be here in an hour.”

Oliver’s mother turned to him; her head snapping so fast Elio wondered how she didn’t tear a muscle.

For a moment, he thought she was about to chide him for speaking; but instead she stared at him, until it felt too uncomfortable, and Elio had to look away.

She was intimidating.

“We have missed that child immensely. And we’ve only seen him once last year. He must be so grown up now,” she said, looking straight at Oliver, and ignored Elio completely.

“Yes, he is,” Oliver said.

There was so much tension in the air; Elio felt like he couldn’t breathe.

He didn’t know how he was going to be able to eat anything at all.

And Oliver’s mother, again, didn’t help.

“You eat like a bird,” she commented soon after, when they received their food, looking at him and at his salad. The fork held in her hand, hovering over her plate, as if she just had to stop all she was doing to inform them of her opinion. “You are too thin. Oliver, you need to make sure he eats, no one that skin and bones can handle a pregnancy. I don’t even know how that small body carried a child the first time to begin with.”

There. As if it wasn’t clear enough that she, they, Oliver’s parents, considered Elio like nothing more than a vessel for their grandchildren. An empty vessel, especially when not pregnant, like now.

Elio felt anger rise in his chest. And anxiety, and humiliation. He looked away again, not wanting to look at Oliver, because he wasn’t meeting his eyes, anyway. Elio opted to check his watch. Not long, and then his parents were going to arrive and bring them Sam.

He nursed his glass of orange juice, while Oliver’s parents took turns in gossiping about people they knew, and talking about things Elio refused to care about.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sam screamed for him the moment he saw him, and Elio ran over to Annella, picked up his son and held him tight.

They’d gone back to the suite Oliver’s parents were renting while in Milan, the hotel one of the oldest, most expensive in the city - somber and uptight like them, Elio had thought, he would never stay there, even if he had the money.

Oliver’s mother was having tea. His father had a book in his hands, and asking Oliver questions about his job, an imitation of an interrogation and a school test.

Only with Sam in his arms and his parents there Elio felt like he could finally breathe.

“Were you a good boy with nonna?” Elio asked, stroking Sam’s cheek with a hand, and ignoring everybody else in the room. “Andiamo via tra poco, promesso, amore”, we’re leaving really soon, I promise, he told Sam.

“Elio, bring my grandson to me.”

Elio had his back to her, and he had to screw his eyes shut and breathe for a moment when he heard that request. He felt like growling. Who did she think she was?

“You can see him just fine from where he is,” he responded, turning around towards her. Sam had his hands in Elio’s hair, holding onto his curls with chubby fingers, and Elio was happy that he didn’t want to let go.

All pair of eyes in the room turned to him at that.

“Elio?” Annella’s voice. Perplexed, gently chiding.

“You should really watch your tone, child,” Oliver’s father supplied from his spot on the couch.

Elio took a step back, his jaw set and rigid. It made Oliver’s mother sigh impatiently.

“This is what happens when you take a casual Omega, and one so young no less, Oliver. No obedience there. If only you’d listened to us. These things should always be planned.”

Oliver turned to Elio, and whispered to him.

“Just give Sam to them for a few minutes, the sooner you do the sooner we can leave.”

Elio’s eyes were already full with angry tears. He shook his head no.

In his arms, Sam buried his face into Elio’s neck.

“Elio.”

“No. They’re scaring him.”

“You are scaring him, child,” Oliver’s mother fixed him with an icy stare. “Oliver, I do hope you’re sending Samuel to stay with us very soon like we said. He’ll grow up like a scoundrel with this kind of example.”

Elio thought his heart must have stopped beating.

He took another step back. He didn’t think he heard anyone breathe; everybody in the room looked frozen. He felt like he couldn’t find enough air to fill his lungs. He held Sam tighter against himself, walked to the door; and left.

And everybody was probably too shocked to even call after him.


	15. Chapter 15

Elio held Sam tight to himself, and blinked hard, wanting to get rid of the haze of tears so that they would not impair his vision.

He was out in the street, and he needed to find somewhere to go, quick, before he got into danger - or, worse, before Oliver’s parents found him.

He thought hard and fast. He spotted a taxi parked nearby; he ran for it.

 

 

He didn’t have any money, but the taxi driver had seen his face streaked with tears, the sobbing child in his arms, and he’d agreed to give them a ride anyway.

In the car, Elio forced himself to breathe. Sam was still crying; scared. Sam needed him.

“It’s ok, Sammy. We’re ok. I won’t let anything happen to you,” he murmured against the baby’s cheek.

He’d given the driver an address - he didn’t remember the exact house number, but he would try and recognise the building once they got there. He’d been to this place enough times growing up.

Isaac and Mounir’s house in Milan.

He just hoped someone was home.

 

 

 

 

 

Isaac was there, luckily for Elio, and he paid for the taxi, and got Elio and Sam inside, fussed over them, didn’t stop worrying until they were curled up safely on the couch. He warmed up milk for Sam and gave hot tea to Elio; he called Mounir in his office, and asked him to buy nappies and baby formula, and come home as soon as possible.

“What happened?” he asked, many times, his forehead wrinkled in anguish. He’d always treated Elio like he was part of his family.

Elio told him everything, in as few words as possible. He told him he couldn’t go back. He wasn’t going to let Oliver’s parents near Sam ever again. He wanted answers from Oliver. He felt like he had been lied to.

“I’m sure that’s not how it seems,” Isaac tried to reassure, his eyes sad. Then he went to the guest bedroom, arranged a makeshift cot for Sam to nap in, and Elio was grateful.

 

 

 

 

“I’m ok, Mama,” Elio told his mother on the phone that night.

She was back in Crema with Elio’s father.

They had tried everyone they knew in Milan and soon, they found that Elio was with Isaac and Mounir, thankfully safe. They’d told Oliver, but they hadn’t given him the address. Elio had asked them not to. He wanted to stay at Isaac and Mounir’s place for the night. He needed some time away.

“We’re ok Mama, Sam is sleeping. He’s ok. I just- I just need some time.”

“Are you sure you’re okay? With your bond, you know...”

Elio pulled his knees up against his chest, curled up on the chair, making himself small.

“I don’t know what to do. I don’t want them - I can’t do it.”

“You can’t hide forever, piccino. You have your life to think about.”

Elio sobbed.

“They hate me. And they want to take Sam from me. Just like last year. Worse. They’ll take him from me. He’s not theirs to take.”

A sigh.

“Oliver is very upset,” Annella gently said. “He’s crazy with worry. He keeps asking if you’re ok.”

Elio brushed tears out of his eyes with the back of his hand.

“I don’t want to see him.”

His head throbbed. All his muscled ached; he felt nauseous.

He wondered if Oliver was feeling the same.

“He’ll come and pick you up tomorrow,” Annella said softly, as if she heard his thoughts. “Now, get some sleep.”

Elio closed his eyes, and listened to his mother’s breathing on the other end of the line. Calm, patient. He focussed on it. Tried to make himself calm down, too.

 

 

 

Oliver arrived just before 8am, the day after. Elio had just got Sam up, given him his milk; the baby shrieked and smiled at the sight of Oliver.

“Get Sam ready, and then we’ll go,” Oliver told Elio quietly. No inflection to his voice.

Quietly, as well, Elio did as he was asked. He hugged Mounir and Isaac goodbye.

Not even a whole day away from his bonded alpha, and he felt already like a shadow of himself.

He hated it.

They didn’t speak for the whole drive back to Crema. When they got home, Elio knew they needed to talk. He gave Sam to Mafalda. He walked into the sitting room, let Oliver follow him, his heart beating fast in his chest.

“Do you realize what you’ve done?”

Oliver’s tone was icy. Cutting. Like a blade.

Elio closed his eyes for a moment, to stop himself from rolling his eyes, or crying.

“What?”, he started. His voice trembling, exhausted. “Disobeyed your parents? Refused them something? Stood up for myself?”

Oliver set his jaw.

“No,” he said. “You’ve disappeared with Sam for a whole day. You left, without telling me where you were going, and took our child. It’s against the law. Do you realize what that means?”

Elio knew what the law said. He knew what the implications were. But honestly, not for one second had he thought about that, when he’d left that hotel room. He just wanted to get Sam away from there.

“It means if my parents report it, you will lose Sam!” Oliver supplied when Elio didn’t answer, his voice raised, and stared at him. “You will be deemed an Omega unfit for parenting. You know how bullshit the law is!”

“Why do you care??” Elio interrupted, his face already streaked with tears. He knew what that meant, he did, and the panic started pushing its way into his heart. “You told your parents you’re giving them Sam! You were going to give them my son, without me even knowing any of it! And any more children - you’re going to do the same!”

He felt his legs give from under him, stress and exhaustion catching up with him, all at once. He had refused any food, both that morning and the night before, and he regretted that now, because he had no energy left to fight.

He fell to his knees. When Oliver knelt beside him, and grasped his arms with his hands, Elio let him, defeated.

“I don’t want you to lose Sam,” Oliver told him, shaking him lightly. “Do you hear me? Not Sam, or any other children we have. I don’t want you to lose Sam, and I don’t want to lose you.”

He was quiet for a moment; still holding onto Elio’s arms, but trying to look into the boy’s teary eyes.

“Why didn’t you - help me,” Elio asked, sobbing softly. “When your parents were being horrible. You didn’t stand up for me.”

“I’m sorry.” Oliver’s voice was quieter, too. “I’m sorry, kiddo. I didn’t know what to do. I - I resorted to my usual way - letting them speak, making them happy. So they’ll leave me alone for another year.”

Elio still sobbed, and Oliver pulled him into his arms, against his chest.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, against Elio’s hair.

“What are we going to do,” Elio cried. He felt so weak, but he was going to fight, tooth and nail, before he let anyone take Sam. He just didn’t know how much strength he had left, to do it alone.

Oliver kissed his temple, his hair. His forehead. He kissed his eyes and his mouth, swollen and wet with tears. 

“I’m going to testify against my parents. If they do go ahead and report it. I’m going to swear against them, and for our family. I’m going to tell the truth, I’m going to tell them what a great parent you are.”

He lifted Elio’s head, gently, with a finger under his chin.

“I’m going to tell them that this is our family, and that I love you.”

Elio sobbed at that, and Oliver kissed him, stealing away his breath, and his tears.

 

 


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angst...

Oliver watched Elio sleep on their bed.

 

It was the middle of the afternoon, but Sam had a fever and had been up all night, and Elio with him, even though Oliver was there and tried to persuade him to take breaks to get some sleep.

Now, exhaustion had caught up with Elio, and he was breathing softly, curled up on the mattress, a frown on his face as he slept, with Sam napping quietly next to him.

Oliver watched both. Sam’s round face, his long eyelashes skimming his cheeks; his little fist on the mattress while he faced Elio as he slept. His curly dark blond hair.

Elio’s hair, longer now, stood out against the white of the pillow in thick black rivulets of curls. Oliver wanted to run his fingers through them, to see if he could smooth the tense lines on his Omega’s face. But he didn’t.

He wanted to pick Sam up and put the child in his cot, in the next room, to let Elio sleep properly - but he didn’t.

Things weren’t easy between them, right now. Not after what happened with Oliver’s parents.

But Oliver was determined to make everything right again.

 

 

 

 

That night Elio went to bed early, and when Oliver joined him he was already on the verge of sleep.

Oliver lay behind him, wrapped an arm around the boy’s waist. He kissed his nape. The side of his neck.

He could smell that Elio’s heat was close, and, like always, it spurred him on, and he continued to kiss him until Elio whimpered and turned around to offer his mouth to him. Oliver kissed him; his hand slid down to Elio’s pijama bottoms, inside them, wrapped around him, stroked and pulled the fabric down.

Elio whimpered again, and Oliver kissed the back of his neck, his shoulder; bit him gently, as he pushed his fingers in him, making him arch his back. He thrust inside him after; and Elio moaned, his eyes closed.

“Feels good,” he murmured softly.

Oliver groaned back.

“Yeah. You feel so good,” he praised, hips moving, hand splayed on Elio’s stomach tohold him steady. “You’re so beautiful.”

When he came, his knot was so intense that it made Elio cry out, in a mix of pain and pleasure. And then he came too.

“I love you,” Oliver whispered against his hair, breathing hard.

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Morning,” Oliver greeted. He was making pancakes in the kitchen - they never got them from Mafalda, who wasn’t fond of what she called ‘American food’.

Elio came into the room, Sam on his hip, the child babbling to himself. It had been a couple of weeks, and his fever was just a memory.

Elio sat Sam down on his high chair, and the baby immediately started to scream.

“No! Dada up!” He said, with his little arms stretched upwards towards Elio, to be picked up.

“Don’t you want breakfast?” Elio asked, kissing his cheek, and laughing when Sam laughed. “Good boy.”

Oliver sat a plate of pancakes on the coffee table, and mugs of coffee, and then went to ruffle Sam’s curls. 

“Morning, little rascal.”

They ate in silence, sitting side by side on the couch, Sam making little noises as he ate some of his food, and splashed the rest everywhere, giggling.

Elio made to get up, but Oliver stopped him.

“I’ll take care of it.”

Before Elio could protest, Oliver wrapped an arm around his waist, pulled the boy back to him. “I liked having you sitting next to me.”

It wasn’t the complete truth; he liked having Elio there, of course, but he was bothered by the silence. He was worried.

Elio had been quiet, often, recently.

“I just wanted to clean up before he makes even more of a mess,” Elio mumbled, but let himself be pulled back. Oliver hugged his waist, pushed his face against his abdomen. Pulled up his shirt and kissed Elio’s naked skin.

For a moment, Elio’s fingers went into Oliver’s hair, and stroked.

“I’m not pregnant. In case you’re wondering.”

Oliver looked up from his tummy.

“Maybe something happened to me. When I gave birth to Sam,” Elio continued, shrugging, looking anywhere but at Oliver; his mouth downturned. “Maybe I can’t get pregnant again.”

Oliver thumbed Elio’s hipbones, sharp on his slim hips.

“Nothing happened to you, baby. It just takes some time.” He gave Elio’s belly another kiss. “And I wasn’t - I just wanted you close. I wasn’t hinting at anything.”

He held Elio’s gaze, as the Omega stared, investigating his eyes, probably, testing his sincerity. It stung, more than a little. But Oliver knew it was his own fault.

“You should think of enrolling back into school this fall,” Oliver murmured, still looking up at Elio. “Like you wanted to do.”

Elio blinked.

“What about Sam?”

“I can look after him. When I’m at work, then maybe your mom? Mafalda?”

“I’d be away for too long,” Elio said.

“It would only be a few hours. It would be fine.”

Elio nodded. Looked down at his feet.

Then Sam shrieked a little, and gave a sob, and Elio went to see to his son before a full on crying tantrum started, leaving Oliver to watch them, worried, frowning.

 

 

 

 

 

 

“I know you want to talk.”

Elio came into the bedroom; looked at Oliver, sat on the edge of the bed. Elio padded over, and sat next to him.

It was late, the sky a dark blue outside. The crickets were already going wild with their chirping.

Oliver sighed.

“I’ve been thinking,” he said, quietly.

“Elio, I... I want you to not be worried anymore. I wish I could reassure you that no one is ever going to take Sam. I’ve tried, but I can’t. And it’s my fault.”

He sighed again, and then reached out, placed his hand on top of Elio’s on the mattress.

“I don’t want you to feel that you can’t...do what you want to do. Go back to school. I want... I want to give you space. I want you to feel safe, to feel that Sam is safe.”

Elio looked down at their hands, then back up to Oliver. His eyes were sad.

“I don’t know why I feel this way.”

Oliver stroked his thumb over Elio’s hand.

“I do. It’s because I didn’t protect you as I should have. And I... I’ll spend my life proving to you that I can do that. That I am the Alpha you need, the person you need at your side. But I don’t want to hold you back.”

Oliver’s eyes were bright; and Elio’s, a mirror of his. Red rimmed, teary.

“Maybe... maybe some time apart will help,” Elio nodded softly.

Oliver bit his lower lip, and took a deep breath. As if his deepest fears had just been confirmed.

“I’ll rent somewhere close. I’ll be here anytime you need me. Anytime you don’t feel well, or when you’re in heat, or - whenever.”

Elio nodded. A tear making its way down his cheek.

“And I’ll come see Sam. I want to be here for him. If that’s okay with you.”

Oliver’s voice was so tentative. Alphas were never like that. He was trying his best, trying hard to show that he wanted Elio to have agency. He wanted Elio to forgive him.

“Of course. Of course it’s okay.”

Oliver nodded once again. Then he leant over, kissed Elio’s lips, gently.

Another tear slid down Elio’s cheek; and he stood up, ran a hand through his curls, and then left the room, so he didn’t have to watch Oliver pack.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I KNOW! But don’t worry, because rainbows happen always after a storm...


	17. Chapter 17

“Shh. It’s ok, Sammy. Shh.”

Elio had been trying to calm Sam down for the past hour, but the child was crying, sobbing, irritable and restless. He was in the middle of a particularly painful bout of of teething, but Elio knew there was more to it.

“Dadi,” Sam cried, hiccuped pitifully. He hid his face into Elio’s shoulder, as the Omega cradled him to his chest, rocked him gently back and forth.

“Daddy’s not here, Sammy.” Elio kissed his head; Sam still sobbed.

It made Elio sigh.

“You’re way too clever for your age,” he murmured to his son. “I know you know Daddy’s not just at work.”

“Dadi,” Sam repeated, and hiccuped more loudly.

“I miss him too, baby,” Elio nuzzled Sam’s head with his lips.

Nothing seemed to be working to calm down the child. Elio felt like crying, too.

 

 

 

 

Elio’s next heat came unexpectedly, a couple of days later.

It was early by two weeks, and Elio wasn’t prepared, wasn’t expecting it. Didn’t realise how the absence of his bonded alpha around him would affect his cycle.

It was already late in the day as the first pangs of pain made his stomach crawl, his abdomen contracting. His head had already started feeling fuzzy, as if it was full of cotton.

He hadn’t had a chance to let Oliver know, of course, and now that they were living separately that meant Elio couldn’t simply find Oliver in his room; he whimpered a little, quietly. He didn’t have much time. He was already smelling strongly of fertile Omega; he was going to start hurting soon.

“Oliver,” he murmured, as if Oliver were there to hear him.

 

 

 

 

Oliver opened the door almost instantly, and Elio shivered at the sight of him.

“Elio? What are you doing here? Is everything okay?”

He didn’t really have time to smell him, because Elio threw himself at him, into his arms, kissed him frantically.

“Oliver,” he whimpered. “Oliver. Oliver.”

Once Oliver did smell, though, his jaw set with fury. He grabbed Elio’s trembling biceps; he pulled him back, stared at him, eyes shooting daggers.

“How did you get here?”

“I - my bike,” Elio said. Swallowed. His whole body trembled.

“Are you out of your goddamn mind?” Oliver said, his voice raised. He shook Elio by the arms. “You’re in heat! For fuck’s sake. Do you realise how dangerous this is? You leaving the house on your own in this state??”

Some Alphas outright refused to control themselves in the presence of an omega in heat, despite the sanctions that were in place in case of assault. Omegas rarely reported aggressions; they were a cause of shame, more than anything else.

Oliver shook Elio again, firmly, when he didn’t respond.

“You can - you can punish me later,” Elio said, in a breath. “Please, don’t yell at me now. Please, Oliver. I need you.”

He was on the verge of tears.

Oliver stared at him for few more moments; looked at Elio’s wide, red eyes, his quivering swollen mouth; the perspiration that glued dark curls to his forehead. The way that he writhed in his arms because of the spasms in his belly.Oliver pulled him to himself, let him shelter against his chest. 

 

 

 

 

 

He kissed Elio’s chest, his nipples and collarbones, sucked and bit them. He kissed down his flat belly to his hipbones. Elio moaned, growled in his throat, begged.

His heat seemed even more intense than usual, making him more distraught, and it was surely because their bond had been strained. Elio was grinding his teeth together, whimpering in pain.

Oliver laid on top of him, between his legs, and took pity of him, pushing inside in one smooth thrust.

He watched Elio arch his back. The boy cried out, almost feral.

He was so tight.

“Gonna come soon?” Oliver growled on the boy’s mouth. He wasn’t far from his orgasm himself, the hormones and tension in the air and Elio’s clasp on his body taking him over the edge already.

“I want - I want you,” Elio just moaned. “Fill me, Alpha.”

Oliver nudged his chin up, sank his teeth into the soft skin under Elio’s jaw as he thrust into him.

He wanted Elio on top of him, riding him, he wanted to watch him take what he needed from Oliver. He wanted to come in Elio’s mouth.

But he knew Elio was too far gone for any of that, now. Maybe next time - this was going to go on for a while.

“Do you want me to breed you? Do you want my child?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” Elio chanted in response. “Please, please. Make me pregnant.”

Oliver slammed into him hard, revelling in making him scream. He came inside his young Omega; and at that moment, Elio exhaled, deflated. Relaxed down on the bed, his chest raising and falling with his still accelerated breaths.

Oliver watched him, as his eyes practically rolled back, while Oliver’s knot kept them together tightly, expanding inside Elio’s body.

 

 

 

 

 

When Elio woke up, Oliver was sitting on the bed, and turned towards him, a concerned expression on his face.

“Oliver,” Elio whispered, reaching a hand out towards him.

Oliver crawled over, and caged him with his arms, bent down to kiss him on the lips. Just once.

“I am absolutely furious with you.” He looked down at Elio severely. “It was immensely stupid of you to wander out by yourself, with your scent so strong. Do you even realise it?”

Elio looked up into his eyes. Didn’t answer.

He did realise; he just hadn’t cared. Something he just couldn’t admit to Oliver.

“I missed you,” Elio simply said.

“Promise me you’ll never do something this stupid ever again. Next time, call me, and I’ll come over in an instant. Understood?”

Elio nodded.

“My heat is really strong,” he whimpered. He took Oliver’s hand, brought it down over his naked abdomen. The skin was sweltering hot.

Oliver leaned down, kissed his lips again.

“You’re here now,” he breathed on Elio’s mouth.

The boy’s eyes were closing again; Oliver stroked strands of his hair back from his damp forehead. He was running a fever.

“I have to go home to Sam,” Elio murmured tiredly, fighting to keep his eyes open.

“You’re not going anywhere tonight,” Oliver said. “I’m going to call your mother now and tell her that you’re here. I’ll drive you back when your heat is over.”

Elio’s eyelids fluttered. Even if the boy wanted to protest, he was too tired and too feverish to do it.

Oliver kept stroking his hair gently, combing the curls in place with the tips of his fingers - and a few moments later, Elio was asleep again.

Oliver caressed him for a while longer, watching him, and thinking.

“I love you, Elio,” he murmured while Elio slept. “I really do. You’re my whole world.” He hesitated for a moment. “I want you and Sam to be proud of me. I want to protect both of you. I hope... I hope what I’ve done will help you see all of this. Help you forgive me.”

Elio slept, serenely, quietly; oblivious.

Oliver kissed the top of head, and then let him sleep.

 


	18. Chapter 18

The midday sun bathed the piazzetta in warm light, and people were everywhere, coming in and out of shops, sitting outside the restaurants in Crema’s largest street.

Elio and Marzia sat on a bench, Elio holding Sam’s little hand as the toddler tried to walk around. He was getting better, more confident in walking on his own - sometimes even throwing little tantrums to be allowed to walk around on his own.

“Oliver gets off at one o’ clock,” Elio said, looking towards the school - across the piazzetta, where Oliver taught every day.

“Are you excited to see Daddy, Sammy?” Marzia asked the child, crouching down to his height. Sam gave a little scream.

“You are excited, huh.”

“I bring him to see Oliver on his lunch break almost every day.” Elio glanced towards the school again.

Marzia nodded, gently stroking the blond curls on top of Sam’s head.

“Look, Sammy. Daddy’s coming.”

Elio turned his son around carefully, and Sam shrieked excitedly at the sight of his father beaming at him. Oliver jogged over, and Sam took a few steps towards him.

“My little rascal! Look at you. Next time I see you you’ll be running the New York marathon!”

He picked Sam up, and tickled him, making him laugh and squirm in his arms.

Holding the child to himself he bent down to kiss the top of Elio’s head.

“Hey.”

“Have you had lunch already?” Elio asked,  wanting to make sure he managed to have some food in his break from classes. 

Oliver nodded.

“Yeah. Sam and I are going to go and have ice cream now, aren’t we, rascal?”

Sam shrieked again.

“Issscrim!!!” he babbled, and Oliver chuckled.

Elio and Marzia watched him walk back to the gelato place in the piazzetta, Sam on his shoulders, giving little screams and kicking his feet.

Marzia looked at Elio.

“Have you thought about... you know. Asking him to come back.”

She was being careful; and Elio was grateful. Although she was probably the only person he was fine talking about this with.

“I still have a lot of anxiety about... about Sam. About him being - taken. It’s not that I don’t trust Oliver. I do, I - trust him with my life. But it’s his parents.” He sighed. “I - they scare me.”

Marzia nodded. Elio had his gaze trained to the gelato parlour Oliver and Sam had gone into.

“I want to graduate high school. I’ve spoken to the school - I can study on my own but I’ll need to go to some classes, take exams and stuff. Oliver wants me to do it without worrying about Sam, and I’ll always worry if I know... if I know that he could be taken by them.”

His eyes were bright. But he didn’t cry. He was going to be strong.

“You know I’m here if you need someone to help,” Marzia said, squeezing her hand around Elio’s arm. Elio turned to her, and smiled.

“I know. Until you go to university...”

“Yeah. I guess.”

The piazzetta was getting busy.

Elio watched people walking out into the sun, and sighed.

 

 

 

 

 

 

“You have a letter, piccino,” Annella said to Elio one morning, as he came downstairs with Sam on his hip.

“Dammelo qui questo bel bambino!” Mafalda arrived to take Sammy from him, bouncing the baby in her arms lightly before sitting him in his high chair. “Mangiamo adesso.”

“Mom? What’s this?”

Elio had the letter open in his hands. He was staring at the lines printed in black ink on it; his eyes were wide.

Annella walked over. “What is it, tesoro?”

“It’s a letter from Oliver’s lawyer. It says that he’s - he’s giving me - he’s giving me equal rights over Sam.”

His voice trembled as he relayed the content of the note to his mother; he could not believe his eyes. This couldn’t be true.

“No formal or informal decision shall be taken over the minor without explicit written consent by both of his parents, including the Omega mother. This overrides Omega limitations by will of the ruling Alpha.”

“Oh! Oh my god, Elio. This is such great news!” Annella’s eyes were gleaming. “Do you understand, baby? Oliver did something so wonderful for you and for Sam!”

Elio stood, speechless, the letter still clutched in his hands, which were now trembling.

“Does it mean.... does it mean...”

“It means Oliver’s parents have no rights over Sam now,” Annella confirmed his thoughts. She smiled, wide, and then stroked Elio’s hair. “I don’t know any other Alpha who has ever done this for their Omega, Amore.”

Elio’s heart was thumping loudly in his chest. He felt a little light headed, but also, his lips now wanted to stretch into a disbelieving smile.

He wanted to see Oliver. He needed to see him

“Mom? Do you think you can take me to see Oliver?” he asked, the letter hugged to his chest, as if that was Oliver himself.

 

 

 

 

 

“Oliver!” Elio called, running up the communal stairs to Oliver’s rented apartment. He knocked on the door. “Oliver!”

Oliver opened a few seconds later.

“Hey, Elio. You alright?”

Elio didn’t say anything; just jumped at his neck, hugging him, wrapping his arms tight around Oliver’s nape.

“I got the letter,” he panted, on the verge of sobbing. “I got the letter.”

He felt Oliver exhale slowly against him, his arms fastening around Elio’s back. He felt Oliver smile against his hair.

“Good.”

“What did you do? You’re so crazy. Oh my god,” Elio panted still, pulling back to look into Oliver’s eyes. They were bright, just like Elio’s.

“I’m not going to let anyone make decisions over Sam. Anyone that isn’t us - that isn’t you and me.” He kissed Elio’s head. Cupped his cheek, stroked a thumb over the corner of the boy’s mouth. “Sam is your son, and you know what’s best for him. It should be your right. I didn’t give you anything that shouldn’t have been yours to begin with.”

Elio swallowed. Overwhelmed.

His right to be Sam’s guardian, his right to be responsible for him, may have belonged to him already - but what Oliver did was huge. A huge show of respect; of care. Of love.One that other Alphas never thought of.

“I should have never let my parents think they could - pass judgement. Raise Sam like they want,” Oliver continued. He sighed. “I am sorry.”

“I love you,” Elio murmured, looking up, straight into Oliver’s eyes.

The older man smiled.

“I love you, too.”

He leaned down to kiss Elio, and the boy kissed back, moaning gently against Oliver’s lips, emotion and longing strong in his whole body.

When they separated, Elio looked up at Oliver again.

“I have something else to tell you,” he murmured, almost shy. He took Oliver’s hand; and pressed it gently against his abdomen. “I’m pregnant.”

“Elio,” Oliver just breathed, his eyes wide. “When - how...

“Think I’m only a couple of weeks. Haven’t really been sick - just, just nauseous. So I took a test.” Elio blinked, and bit his lower lip. “Come back. Move back in with us. Sam and I miss you a lot.”

Oliver just smiled; a bright, happy smile, one that made his eyes gleam, as blue as ever. He nodded.

“Of course. Of course I will. God, I love you.”

He hugged Elio to himself, and Elio held him tight, his arms wrapped around Oliver’s neck, their hearts beating in unison.

 

 

* _End of part 2*_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this story! Please do let me know in the comments. 
> 
> Also, if you’d like me to continue, with Elio’s second pregnancy, please let me know! 
> 
> Thank you for reading xx


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 3 is here!

**Part 3**

 

 

 

Elio sat on the couch, cradling his five-month-bump, changing channels on the TV, bored.

Oliver was still at work, and Annella had taken Sam with her into town to give Elio time to study. Most days, either she orMafalda would look after the child while Elio spent time on his school books; he attended class two mornings a week, a special dispensation the school had provided to allow him to graduate that year.

It was going well; Elio was happy to be able to do both. To be able to study and to be with his son. He loved reading, and he liked studying; he’d missed it.

And today, he was done earlier than he thought - and so, he was bored.

The noise of a car pulling into the driveway got his attention, and he got up, walked briskly to the window. He recognised the sound of the engine: Oliver was back. 

“I forgot you finished earlier today,” Elio told him once the older man came in, running towards him. 

“I’m flattered,” Oliver smiled, laughed, teasing Elio. The boy threw his arms around Oliver’s neck, and Oliver kissed his cheek.

“Sorry. I lost track of days I guess.”

Oliver reached down to give him a kiss on the lips too.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah. Sam is with my mom, and I’ve finished studying maybe a couple of hours ago. I was so bored.”

He kissed Oliver again, and Oliver kissed back. Smiled against his lips, amused.

“I’m sorry. But not long to go, and then we won’t have any time to be bored with a new little one,” he said, placing a hand on Elio’s belly.

Elio covered it with his own.

“I was thinking.” He looked down at both their hands, twined on his barely-there bump. He was still skinny, no matter how much he tried to put weight on. “I feel like this one is going to be a girl.”

“Do you?”

“Yeah. I don’t know why. I just feel it.”

Oliver stroked Elio’s shirt with his thumb, just over Elio’s navel.

“Mmh. I kind of want it to be another boy.”

Elio looked at him, playfully piqued.

“Why?”

“Because,” Oliver smiled, and shifted his hands to wrap around the small of Elio’s back, pulling him to himself; Elio’s bump gently held between them. “We said we wanted three kids? And if we have another boy now, we’ll have an excuse to have the third one after, to try for a girl.”

Elio smiled too, then, amused. He wrapped his hands back on Oliver’s nape, looking up at him, adoringly.

“We said four kids,” he corrected. “And you’re such a dork. We don’t need an excuse to have the third one. Or the fourth. We just will.” He raised himself on tiptoes, and let himself be kissed again by a beaming, proud Oliver.

 

 

 

 

 

This second pregnancy had been easier on Elio, so far.

He hadn’t experienced much nausea, not like with the first one. He didn’t have any pains just yet. And he hoped it would continue.

Especially as Sam, at nearly two years old now, had started having trouble sleeping. He didn’t seem to like it much. He was a very active, perceptive kid, who liked to play basically all the time. He didn’t want to go to bed. He didn’t want to sleep past seven in the morning, usually.

So Elio and Oliver needed all their energy to keep up with him.

But he was always smiling, and hardly cried. Elio and Oliver loved him with all their heart and more.

“If you eat all of your breakfast, we’ll go and buy that toy bunny you want,” Oliver told Sam, raising a spoon towards the child’s mouth. “For your collection.”

Elio laughed, watching them while he cradled his cup of chocolate milk.

“I don’t think he understands blackmail just yet.”

“Bun!” Sam exclaimed, clapping his little hands on the table of his high chair.

Oliver nodded.

“He does, see?”

“Fine.” Elio walked over to the child, and kissed his cheek. “But now, you have to eat, baby.”

“Oliver, e’ per te al telefono!” Mafalda called then. Someone was on the phone, asking for Oliver.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Who was it?” Elio asked, as he finished giving Sam his breakfast. The child’s cheeks were now almost completely splattered with baby food, and Sam seemed to be ecstatic about it.

Oliver stopped by the table, placed his hands on the back of one of the chairs.

He sighed; and Elio looked up at him, alarmed.

“That was a colleague from Boston. The one who’s moved to Northwestern now? He said the Department Of English is looking for a new professor, and they were very impressed by my book. They are - thinking of offering me the job.”

“At Northwestern??”

Oliver nodded.

“Yeah.”

Elio stood. Looked up at Oliver, his eyes wide.

“Oh my God, Oliver. That’s - amazing!”

Oliver nodded again, looked down.

“Yeah, it is.”

He didn’t add anything else. Accepting a job at Northwestern, obviously, meant working in Chicago. Having to move back to America.

Taking his young family with him - should Elio be happy to.

Elio walked over to Oliver, looked up at him, and stroked a hand along his cheek.

“We would come with you,” he murmured. “If you want us to. You know that.”

“Of course I want you to. I would never leave you and Sam, and the little one behind.”

Elio nodded.

“Okay.”

“But - what about your parents? Crema? We’ve been happy here,” Oliver asked.

Gone were the days were he thought he should make all the decisions, as an Alpha; he wanted Elio to be happy. He wanted them to decide together. It was their life, and Sam’s - and the life of their unborn child.

“You’re my Alpha,” Elio said, softly. “I’ll go with you. I’ll be done with school soon. I’ll give birth in four months. After that, we can do whatever we want.”

His green eyes, sincere, searched for Oliver’s clouded ones. Elio raised up on tiptoes, and kissed him.

Oliver smiled, ran his fingers through Elio’s curls tenderly.

“Let’s not rush this. I don’t have the job yet - we don’t even know if they’ll end up giving it to me. He said I should hear in a couple of months.”

He looked into Elio’s eyes; they both smiled, gently, and Oliver took his young Omega into his arms.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That’s right, I’m spending NYE writing fanfics!  
> Sorry this chapter is short, I wanted to give you some fluff for today... 
> 
> I hope you are okay whatever you are doing, and I hope you enjoyed this chapter. It would make me happy if you left me a comment!
> 
> Happy New Year everyone xx


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: slight depiction of harassment in this chapter. Nothing graphic, however. 
> 
> X

The day it started, Elio was in town, on his own, just back from taking a test at school.

He didn’t have his bike with him - Oliver worried about him riding while pregnant, and Elio was nervous about all the bumps in the road hurting his unborn baby.

He visited the bookshop, one of his favorite places, while he waited for Annella to pick him up - and then, just as he’d walked out, a guy approached him.

“A book fan, huh?” the guy asked.

Elio stopped for a moment; trying to recollect if he knew this person from somewhere. An Alpha. He didn’t know many, and of the few he did know, this guy wasn’t one of them.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” the man continued. He was tall, with dark hair, a beard, Elio remembered. “I’m new here, I was wondering if this is the only bookshop in town?”

Elio frowned. No, he’d never seen that guy before. He had an accent, European. He wondered where he was actually from.

“There’s another one,” Elio replied, tentatively. “But it’s much smaller. If you walk five minutes down on the left you’ll find it.”

The stranger nodded, and then smiled lightly.

“You here alone?”

Elio took a breath. He’d been feeling uncomfortable in this guy’s presence, and now, after this question, his nervousness seemed justified. 

Why was he asking if Elio was alone?

“I’m meeting my mom, she’ll be here in two minutes,” Elio responded, looking around, at the alleyway they were in. It was quiet, and the only people around were in the main street. He didn’t move; didn’t want to show him he was scared. He hoped the guy would just leave.

But he didn’t.

“You’re very beautiful. An alone,” he said, instead. Like a leer. “You should let me - protect you.”

Elio almost showed him his teeth.

“I don’t need you to protect me.”

The stranger laughed.

“Young omegas on their own always need protection. Unless they want something bad to happen to them,” he sneered. And took a step towards Elio.

Elio felt backed up, into the wall behind him. Still no one was walking down the alleyway, no one to take notice of what was going on.

“I already have someone to protect me. I already have an Alpha.”

“Oh, really.” The man kept smiling. It was unsettling. “I don’t see a ring on your finger.”

Elio wanted to growl. He wanted to scream at him that he was bonded. That the bite of his Alpha counted much more than a stupid metal band on his finger. That the guy was stupid, and foolish, if he couldn’t smell that he wasn’t an available Omega, if he didn’t think about the huge mistake he was making. 

But he couldn’t.

His heart was beating fast, and he was breathing so quickly that he felt he was going to hyperventilate soon. He placed a hand on his tummy, an unconscious attempt to protect his child.

“Stay away from me,” he snarled, but it was weak, and he knew it.

“Hey, hey, little one. I didn’t mean to scare you!” The stranger said, but the sing-song lilt of his voice clashed with his seemingly kind words. “It’s fine. I’ll just go.”

He still had his tight, unsettling smile on his face, and stared at Elio for a few more long moments as he walked away down the alleyway. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“What is it, Amore?” Annella asked as soon as Elio climbed in to the passenger seat.

“Nothing. Nothing.”

He was frowning; still breathing hard, trying to calm the movements of his chest.

Looking ahead of him, to the street, because he was afraid he’d start crying if he turned towards his mother.

Annella reached out with her hand, and stroked a curl behind his ear.

“Did something happen?”

“Nothing.” Elio repeated, breathing hard.

“What is it, piccino? It’s okay. It’s okay. I’m here.”

Annella’s voice, her words, managed to soothe Elio enough that he was able to calm himself down. He had a panic attack, he told his mother.

He didn’t want to tell her the truth; she was going to let Oliver know.

Annella looked at him, searched his eyes, worriedly, and Elio knew that perhaps she didn’t completely believe what he’d said - but all the same, she took him into her arms, ran her fingers through his curls.

Elio tried to slow down his breathing. I’m sure he won’t come back, he told himself.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Elio didn’t see the man again for a couple of weeks, but told himself that if he did, he would defend himself.

He wasn’t a weak Omega. He never went out on his own with Sammy, anyway, but he’d be able to protect his son. He would never let any stranger come near him.

Until one day, as he waited for Oliver to finish work, the man reappeared. The same disturbing grin, the same eyes that stared into him.

“Hi beautiful,” the guy greeted him. It made Elio’s skin crawl.

Elio ignored him.

“You look even more gorgeous today.”

“You better leave,” Elio said then, through gritted teeth. “My Alpha is going to be here any minute.”

“Not even the time to tell me your name?” The stranger asked, his tone unnaturally sweet. “I’ll tell you mine. It’s Micah.” He pauses for a moment, then continued. “And I’m going to pursue you until you belong to me. Omega.”

The way he said the word, omega, like Elio was a thing, something for him to purchase, to pick from a shop. It made Elio’s anger rise.

“That will never happen,” he snarled quietly, looking back at him. They were in the middle of a piazza. There were other people around. Elio felt stronger.

“We’ll see about that,” the stranger whispered.

And then, he walked away.

 

 

 

 

 

“I think this is crazy. I think you should tell Oliver, now!”

Marzia was agitated, her big eyes wide and worried.

“No. It’s not a big deal. I heard it happens to many Omegas.” Elio watched Sam play with one of his stuffed toys in the shape of a bunny. This one was green. “And Oliver would... he would get mad,” he added, more quietly.

“And so he should!” Marzia exclaimed, loudly enough that Sam turned towards her, his interest piqued.

“It’s okay Sammy,” Elio picked up the bunny, made it move towards Sam as if it was running. “Marzia’s being silly. We were playing, weren’t we?”

Next to him on the couch, Marzia sighed.

“I think you’re being silly, not wanting to tell Oliver.”

Elio kept his eyes on his son. Smiled at him when he giggled at his toy.He decided to ignore Marzia, at least for now.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

That night, in bed, Oliver and Elio were kissing. Elio wanted to concentrate on that, and on that only, but his mind kept wandering.

He didn’t like keeping things from Oliver, but it’s not like he did this usually; it was just this time. It was for a reason.

He knew that if he told Oliver about that guy, his Alpha would track him down to the end of the world. And he didn’t want Oliver to get in trouble, maybe, over something like this. That guy was all talk. He just liked to intimidate. He was one of those Alphas who enjoyed thinking that everything belonged to them, but ran at the first hint of danger.

“You’re so tense tonight,” Oliver said, as they paused between kisses. “Are you in pain?”

Elio rushed to reassure him.

“No, no, I’m fine. I don’t - I don’t know why I feel like that.”

Oliver stared at him for a moment, and then his lips stretched into a small smile.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” Elio nodded. Reached up to peck Oliver’s lips.

“Okay. Good. Because I was hoping we could - I wanted to have you all to myself for a bit.”

Elio looked at him, and then grinned.

“Oliver. I want to keep having sex, even if I’m pregnant, you know? You don’t have to check.”

Oliver frowned playfully. “Well, I’m going to, anyway.”

Elio reached out, brushed a hand along Oliver’s cheek - his stubble tickling his palm.

“Alpha. I want you to fuck me, please.”

Oliver held his heated gaze for a few moments, but then, he gave in. He kissed Elio, deeply. All tongue.

And then nudged him to lie on his side, while he held him by his hipbone, kissed his nape, bit it gently, and pushed inside of him in one go.

Elio closed his eyes, and arched back, giving himself to sensation, and forcing his mind to stop worrying.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for following this story! 
> 
> If you are reading, please let me know. And if you liked this chapter, I’d love to know your thoughts! 
> 
> Love xx


	21. Chapter 21

“Puppy,” Sam said, pointing to his toy.

Elio smiled.

“No, baby. That’s your toy bunny, remember?”

Sam looked at him, frowned, and then shook his head.

“No! Puppy.”

Elio rolled his eyes affectionately.

“Fine. It’s a puppy, then.”

It was a really warm May day. Sam was playing on the patio, Elio with him. Oliver sat close by, watching over them as he graded a few of his students’ papers.

“We’ll need to buy him a toy in the shape of a dog,” Elio said out loud, for Oliver to hear. “He’ll get confused otherwise.”

Oliver laughed.

“Nah, he’s not confused. He just likes to make up stories, like all kids. His bunny is a dog, now.”

Elio raised his eyes to him, playfully frowning, and Oliver smiled amusedly.

“But yes, yes. We’ll get him a new toy.”

“You should count yourself lucky he doesn’t want an actual dog,” Elio mumbled, a half smile on his lips that he was trying to conceal.

He looked back up at Oliver, and the older man chuckled.

“Yeah. Not yet, anyway.”

And it was then that the screech of a car pulling up in front of the villa caught the attention of both.

The car stopped, and someone climbed out. A man; tall, dark haired. Self-assured in his gait.

Oliver looked up, frowned. They weren’t expecting any guests, and Elio followed his gaze to the stranger who was approaching. And his blood ran cold.

Micah.

“Good morning!” The man greeted, his tone sounding sinister already to Elio’s ears. “Was just looking for you, Elio.”

“Who are you?”

Oliver was now standing. Shoulders squared; face hard.

“Ah, Elio knows me. Don’t you, honey?” Micah stopped just before the stairs to the patio. “So nice to see you.”

Oliver looked towards Elio, confused; Elio checked Sam. He was still playing, unaware of what was happening. Good.

Elio stood up.

“What the hell are you doing here?” He asked, his voice a low snarl.

“Just paying a courtesy visit,” Micah said. Elio hated the confidence in his voice. As if he was supposed to be there. “They told me you’re expecting? Such wonderful news. I think you’re just starting to show, now.” He smiled, his lips eerily tight. “I came to tell you that I can wait until you give birth, my darling. Then we can be together.”

His words made Elio recoil, his heart beating faster. He hadn’t even noticed he’d tensed up, muscles ready for fight or flight; his body had done it on its own.

But before he could even react, Oliver had already taken two steps towards the stranger.

“I don’t know who you are but I suggest you disappear, right now.”

Micah must have been either stupid, or crazy, because he didn’t seem afraid.

“Aw, now, calm down, big guy. You’ll get to keep your kid over there. And the new one.”

Elio didn’t know what happened, there. Didn’t know what came over him.

One moment he was standing by the patio; the other, he’d stepped up, almost squared up the man, his posture rigid and his eyes flashing. Ready to attack.

He would never, ever let anyone threaten Sam.

But practically immediately he felt strong arms around him; Oliver’s scent, behind him, his hands holding him back.

“Elio,” the older man was murmuring to him.

“Oh, we have a feisty one,” Micah chanted, without moving one inch. “I don’t see many of them.”

Elio was breathing hard, so hard, he almost felt like he was hyperventilating. Oliver’s hands were still wrapped around his biceps and then he felt another pair of hands, gentler, more delicate, take their place - Annella, who was whispering to him to ‘come here, it’s okay, Amore. You and Sam are okay.’

He looked on, although it was like a daze, but he saw Oliver stare down Micah, his fists tight by his sides as if he was desperately trying to contain himself.

“Come anywhere near Elio again, and I’ll call the police. After I’ve kicked your ass, you pathetic moron.”

Elio let Annella pull him back but refused to go inside, until he saw the whole scene, until he smelled the pheromones from Oliver and saw Micah smirk, and then, finally, turn his back to leave.

“Come on, piccino. Come inside.”

Elio still had his eyes locked on Oliver, who hadn’t moved yet, still stood outside - staring at Micah’s car, not leaving until it had disappeared from view.

Only when a cry pierced the fog of panic and rage he was immersed in - Sam’s voice, he was sobbing - Elio came back to himself, ran inside to him, picked him up and hugged him to himself.

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Who was that.”

Oliver’s voice was low. Dangerous.

He was looking straight at Elio, as the boy stood, let Mafalda take care of Sam.

“I don’t know. I don’t know who that is.”

“Are you crazy? Are you crazy, going at him like that?”

Oliver raised his voice, making Elio flinch.

“For God’s sake, Elio. You never learn!”

“Why are you taking it out on me??” Elio screamed back. His eyes, immediately full of tears.

“Because you’re crazy, that’s why! You - you don’t know who that is, you don’t know what he could do, how dangerous he is, you - you’re pregnant! Goddamnit!”

The barrage of words from Oliver’s mouth didn’t stop, couldn’t stop - and Elio just stood, jaw rigid. He hadn’t even noticed he’d started sobbing.

“It’s not my fault!” He yelled back again, trying to retaliate through his sobs. 

“You’ll get yourself - killed, or - or worse!! If you can’t keep your reactions in check - you’re too impulsive!”

Oliver’s brain was on overdrive and he breathed hard, staring at Elio, whose cheeks were streaked with tears.

“Oliver.”

Samuel’s calm voice made him stop. The man stood beside him; a hand on his arm. As if to say, that’s enough.

Oliver took a step back, tried to breathe. Looked up again, to see Elio, still crying quietly, leaving the living room to disappear up the stairs.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Oliver climbed up the stairs in silence. Listening to the sound of his feet, muted on the cold marble.

He stopped by the door to his bedroom. His, and Elio’s. It was closed.

Gently, he knocked.

“Elio? Can I come in?”he asked, quietly.

There was a pause, and then, a voice just as quiet.

“No.”

Oliver sighed.

“Please, Elio?”

He waited, for any sign, for a response. When none came, he turned the doorknob.

Peeked inside.

Elio was on the bed; curled up, as much as he could with his six months bump in the way, his arms covering his head - curls sticking out messily. His back to the door.

Oliver walked slowly to the bed, sat on the edge.

“Please just go away,” Elio’s voice came from beneath his arms. He sounded like he’d just stopped crying.

Oliver sighed.

“Can I just - can I at least apologize? And then I’ll go. I promise.”

No response.

“Listen, I... I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Elio. I -shouldn’t have reacted the way I did. At all.”

He waited for a moment, looked for any reaction. When there was still none, he continued.

At least Elio wasn’t kicking him out just yet.

“I don’t know what came over me but I just - I could feel the danger. My senses were all going crazy, I guess - I guess my mind just wanted to attack. I couldn’t stand the thought of you being that close to him, of you being in danger. You, and my child.”

There was still silence from Elio. He just moved a hand, used it to wipe at his eyes.

“I shouldn’t have reprimanded you. I wanted to protect you and - and all my tension came out the wrong way. You - you were impulsive, but - so was I. And I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, kiddo.”

This time, Oliver waited a little longer, for his words to hopefully sink in. He watched Elio’s ribcage, as it expanded with his breaths; and then, quietly, the boy spoke.

“My mind went crazy too. It isn’t just yours - you’re not the only one who had people to protect. I wanted to protect Sammy.”

Oliver looked down, sadly, and then back at Elio. Tentatively, he reached out to touch his arm.

“I know,” Oliver murmured. “And I’m sorry, again. But - you don’t just have Sammy to protect now, baby. You have - we have another child. And you. We have you, to protect.”

He watched as Elio took a long, deep breath. And then, very slowly, he turned around; lay on his back, his arm sliding from where it was covering his eyes. Revealing cheeks reddened from crying, curls wet with tears and sticking to his temples.

Oliver frowned again.

He reached down towards Elio, gently kissed his swollen lips. Breathed out when the boy let him kiss him.

They looked into each other’s eyes for a long moment.

“I’ve - I’ve met that guy before. He approached me, in town. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything,” Elio hiccupped.

Oliver looked down, jaw set; and breathed deeply.

“I was worried that you, that this would happen,” Elio continued, in a rush. “I don’t want you to get in trouble about this.”

Oliver was quiet for a moment. When he spoke again, he looked into Elio’s eyes, stroking a stray curl from his forehead with a finger.

“Let me decide what I get into trouble for, when it comes to my family.”

Elio gazed back. Silent, for a long moment.

“Tell me what happened?” Oliver gently requested.

Elio sighed. There was no point of keeping this to himself anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the cliffhanger! Hopefully I’ll manage to post the next one soon. 
> 
> Please leave me a comment?
> 
> Thank you! X


	22. Chapter 22

Elio told him everything.

Perhaps a little hesitantly, because of the anger he still held inside at the feeling of having his family threatened, his son; but he told Oliver everything.

How Micah had first approached him, how he tried not to engage with him, how the man wouldn’t let it go. How he acted like he had some kind of ownership over Elio, just because he was an Omega. How he said, since Elio wasn’t married, that he could do whatever he wanted.

How the idiot couldn’t smell that Elio was bonded.

Oliver listened, quiet the whole time. In the end, he looked at Elio, as the boy tried to keep his breathing in check, tried to control his nerves and the trembling of his body.

“I’m sorry,” Elio said again. “I’m sorry for not telling you.”

Oliver nodded. And then took Elio into his arms, buried his mouth into Elio’s curls; and promised, “I will never let anything happen to you.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Oliver knew this had to end, in a way or another.

His Alpha instinct told him to never let Elio go anywhere on his own. No bike rides, not even after he gave birth. No trips into town on his own, no going to the library by himself. He should have someone to watch him, always. Oliver should keep certain places, streets, and people off-limits to him.

But he couldn’t do this, to Elio.

He wasn’t the Alpha he’d been taught to be. He’d learnt so much, after being with Elio. He’d learnt about his inquisitive, free nature; his desire to discover, and do, and just be, just be himself. His love for bike rides and swimming in the lake.

Yes, of course Oliver would always watch over him, him and their children. But he couldn’t cut off Elio’s wings. Couldn’t keep him caged. As much as his Alpha brain screamed at him to keep Elio to himself, locked into his room, to watch him at every hour of the day and the night, to justhave him there to birth and raise his children while Oliver provided for them - he just couldn’t, wouldn’t do it.

Elio had taught him so much.

So. This problem needed a solution. And fast.

Elio was now over seven months’ pregnant.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Perhaps to ease everyone’s mind, Elio hadn’t wanted to go into town for the past couple of weeks.

He’d just spent time at the villa with Sam, studying, relaxing in the sun when he could.

Micah hadn’t been seen around their home again.

And it was Oliver who proposed the trip, that day.

“What do you say if we go to Crema, later? It’s a nice day. We can get some ice cream, go for a walk?” He paused a moment. “If you feel up for it, of course.”

Elio’s tummy had grown quite a lot in the past few weeks, and now sat heavy and swollen on the boy’s small frame. Elio still wanted to do things, however, even though he got tired quickly now; and so he smiled, nodded.

“I would like that.”

Oliver beamed back, and brushed a curl off of Elio’s forehead.

“All right. I’ll go and get Sam ready. You go down to the car.”

It was a really nice June day, and so they parked, walked to the ice cream parlor, hand in hand, Sam on Oliver’s hip, babbling excitedly.

They sat in the piazzetta for a while, soaking up the gentle sun. Oliver watched Elio smile; marvelling at how even more beautiful he seemed to have become, the further he was into the pregnancy.

And finally, as dinner time approached, they decided to head home. Oliver guided Elio to the car, hand on the small of his back. Sam was sleeping in his buggy.

And just when he thought that the day had been easy, pleasantly uneventful; Micah appeared.

Standing by their car. His dirty, creepy smile firmly plastered on his face.

“Oh. If it isn’t my favorite family,” he leered.

Oliver sighed. Felt anger start to rise inside his gut.

“What the hell do you want?”

Micah watched them.

“I haven’t seen sweet Elio in some time. I missed him,” he said.

“He isn’t yours to see,” Oliver growled back. Micah was leaning on their car, there was nowhere for them to go.

“Oh, come on. Oliver, is that your name, Alpha?” Micah smirked, arms folded on his chest. His hair was greasy, the skin on his face wrinkled and ruined. Oliver wanted to snarl.

“I heard you’re very generous with this Omega. Heard you let him run around, go places on his own. Talk back to you.” He tutted. “It’s all really not wise. Especially when he’s that beautiful. People will want to take him for their own, ya know.”

“I’m warning you. I’ve run out of patience. And it seems like you really want me to hurt you,” Oliver snarled back. He didn’t even know how he found the wit to string his words together; all he wanted to do was jump at Micah’s neck, tear it to shreds.

“Oliver,” he heard Elio call, next to him, softly.

“Ah. I bet you don’t even know if that child he’s got inside him now is yours. You must be so angry about that, but frankly, you can’t take it out on me, big guy. You should teach your little Omega not to sleep around.”

And that was it.

Oliver couldn’t hear anything, feel anything, if not the noise Micah’s head made as it collided with the pavement; if not the feel of his own hands around the man’s neck, his fist smashing across his face. Once, twice, three times.

He felt and smelled blood. He heard the noise of something crunching, as he pushed down on Micah’s windpipe with his hand.

He heard Elio’s voice, the boy calling his name.

And then another voice, female, older. He thought he knew it; he heard himself growling, and so he tried to quieten it down, to hear what the voice was saying.

“It’s okay, Oliver. Lascialo, let him go. It’s okay. We’ve called the police. We’re here.”

Oliver closed his eyes for a long moment to get his animal instinct under control again, and then pulled his hands away from Micah, stood up, on legs which were still quivering out of rage.

He looked down, watched as Micah spluttered, spat blood onto the floor.

“Oliver,” the woman called again. “It’s Filomena. Remember? I teach with you. We saw. Me and my husband. The polizia is coming.”

Oliver blinked, and saw an older man, stood beside Micah, eyes locked on him in case he tried any weird move.

He turned to look at the woman, finally recognised her. His colleague at the school. Thin frame, kind eyes. Concerned for him and for Elio.

He turned to search for Elio’s eyes, then. The boy stood a little back, Sam hugged to him, his eyes scared. He was breathing hard.

Oliver wanted, more than anything, to run to him and take both Elio and his son into his arms, never let them go.

“Come inside,” he heard Filomena murmur. “Come. We wash your hands, first.”

Oliver frowned; looked down, at his palms, tinged with red. Micah’s blood.

He took a deep breath, and watched as Filomena went to gather Elio and Sam, nudged them gently towards her house. When she motioned for him to come with her, he followed them.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sam slept, curled up on the couch, blanket over his little body.

Oliver tried to take deep breaths. Filomena had made them hot tea; made them sit in her kitchen. Outside, the police spoke to her husband, took Micah away.

Elio’s hands, gentle and warm, wound a cotton wrap around Oliver’s palm.

“Your knuckles are going to be all bruised,” the boy said softly. “Maybe we should go to the doctor.”

Oliver looked down, looked back up at Elio’s face. Shook his head.

“I’ll be fine.”

Elio pulled the bandage tight around his hand. Raised wide, troubled green eyes up to Oliver. His cheeks were flushed; lips bitten, swollen. 

Oliver sighed.

“Are you all right? Is Sam all right?”

“We’re okay,” Elio nodded. He looked pale. Oliver reached out with his hand, stroked down his shoulder, back up to his cheek, as if to check that Elio was really unharmed.

“I couldn’t let him continue,” Oliver murmured. “I couldn’t. He was threatening you. He was disrespecting you.”

Elio shook his head.

“It was just... he was just provoking us. It was just words. It was just him, being an asshole,” he said. His voice low, his gaze back down, to Oliver’s bandaged hand. The boy’s lower lip trembled.

Oliver grit his teeth, and frowned; then spoke again, and his voice was firm.

“No, Elio. Don’t - don’t do this.” He reached out, placed his index finger under Elio’s chin; nudged it up, for Elio to look into his eyes. “He was threatening you. Your freedom. Even if he was never - I would have never let him come near you again, but he was still dictating your life. His threats, his presence. The way he thinks Omegas should behave. You’d have ended up in a cage, and - and I wasn’t going to let it happen. I’m never going to let it happen.”

He held Elio’s eyes, for a long, long moment; until he saw a tear, running down Elio’s cheek. And then, the boy’s lips distended, into a tentative smile.

“I want you to run around on your bike, and swim in the lake like a fish, like when I first met you. I want you to be free. I want our kids to be free.” Oliver stroked Elio’s cheek with a thumb. “I’m always going to be here to protect you, but whatever we decide... however we want to live our life. I don’t want any asshole around trying to change that.”

Elio held his gaze; eyes filling with tears, but not of sorrow; of gratitude. Of love. His heart was beating so fast, still, and he wished he could kiss Oliver. His body wanted him, wanted to connect, find him again inside, know that everything was all right.

“We told the police what happened,” Filomena said, coming into the kitchen. “We saw it all. And we know he’s a bad person. Un mascalzone. He needs to be in prison.”

“Grazie,” Oliver said, smiling up at Filomena and her husband in gratitude.

He couldn’t wait to go home. Lie in bed with Elio, pull him against himself. Enjoy some quiet.

But, it seemed that Fate had very different plans.

“Oliver,” Elio called. He was looking down; holding his belly.

His voice sounded pained, and Oliver immediately turned to him.

“What’s wrong?”

“I - “ Elio tried, and then set his teeth, cried out. “I - my tummy hurts. I think - the baby...”

Oliver’s eyes went wide.

“Filomena, please. Call an ambulance. Ambulanza!” he asked, frantic.

“It can’t - Oliver, it can’t. It’s too early!” Elio cried. He closed his eyes, grit his teeth as another cramp made pain shoot up from his abdomen.

“It’s alright,” Oliver cupped his face with a hand, tried to sound firm. “It’ll be all right.”

He held him, as they waited for the ambulance. Hoped for the best.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave me a comment to let me know you are reading, or I will never know! :) x


	23. Chapter 23

Elio opened his eyes. They felt heavy, and even when he opened them, there seemed to be a fog surrounding him, a layer of grey wherever he looked, and he had to blink many times to clear it away.

It still didn’t go away completely; and at the end of it, he was exhausted.

He heard a voice, and luckily, his hearing wasn’t impaired. It was Oliver. He recognised him. He tried opening his eyes again, and this time, he saw his Alpha’s face. His Alpha was looking at him. Elio tried to smile, a little bit; and then he noticed his hand was held in Oliver’s larger one.

He felt like he couldn’t move, and there was a pricking pain in his arm. He was laying on a bed.

Elio knew where he was, because he had been there before.

“Esther,” he said. His eyes closed on their own, again; but he didn’t feel pain. “I want to call her Esther.”

He didn’t know if his baby was already born, or if she was still in his tummy. He couldn’t really feel it. But his eyelids were too heavy and he really needed to sleep.

Oliver was with him, everything was going to be fine.

 

 

 

 

 

 

When Elio woke up again, he blinked his eyes, expecting the haze of fog in front of him, but instead, his vision was clear.

He was still laying down, on a bed, with white starched sheets and white walls around him.

He was in a hospital. He felt the sting of the IV drip into his arm. He felt the burn in his abdomen, and cried out, quietly.

“Elio, tesoro. Sono qui.” Annella touched his hand gently with hers, and then stroked his arm with her fingers, very lightly. “I’ll tell Oliver you’re awake.”

Oliver must have been just waiting outside, because he came into the room a few moments later. He had a plastic cup clutched into one hand, and he sat next to Elio, smiled at him, wide.

“Kiddo. Baby. How do you feel?”

Elio tried to move one foot, his eyes scrunching shut at the stab of pain the movement caused.

“I dunno,” he said sincerely. Then, he cleared his throat. “Oliver, where... our baby. Where is our baby?”

Oliver raised a hand to rest his arm on the pillow next to Elio’s head, to stroke his curls back from his temple.

“The doctors are keeping her warm. And safe. She needs to be in an incubator for a while. She... wanted to rush.” His thumb caressed Elio’s cheekbone, reverently. “She couldn’t wait to meet you.”

Elio tried to scoot a little, up the bed, but groaned quietly, and gave in.

“I need to see her.”

Oliver nodded.

“You need to rest. I will take you to see her later. She’s fine, baby. She just needs to rest, just like you.”

Elio blinked, and his eyelids felt too heavy. His lashes felt sticky with tears.

“Promise?” he murmured, turning his head towards Oliver on the pillow. His eyes closed.

“I promise,” Oliver whispered back.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Elio looked at his daughter, through the glass of the baby unit.

He was well enough to stand now, although he still needed help to walk because of the pain in his abdomen. The wound had already started healing, three days after the birth; he just needed to get stronger, for himself, and for his new baby.

He touched the baby’s hand through the little window of the incubator. Esther slept, and her little face seemed so at peace. Her long, dark eyelashes didn’t move, but her chest did, slowly, but surely.

Elio turned to the side, looked up at Oliver, as his Alpha came to stand next to him.

“You alright?” Oliver asked, quietly.

“Yeah.” Elio took a deep breath. “She’ll be fine, you know? She’s so strong. Look at her.”

He watched as Oliver smiled, gently, and then reached out to lightly, so lightly, stroke Esther’s tiny hand with the tip of his fingers.

“Yes. She will be.” He was quiet for a moment. “She looks so much like you.”

Elio smiled, didn’t take his eyes off his daughter.

“How did you know it was going to be a girl?” Oliver asked a moment later. As if he’s just remembered.

Elio pursed his lips, the corners pulled up. His eyes were bright. And then a tear slid, lonely, down his cheek.

“I knew. I just knew.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Esther,” Elio said. “Etir,” Sam replied.

“No, Esther,” Elio said again, laughed. “Etir! Etir. Etir.” Sam smacked his hands on Elio’s bed, as he pronounced the word, a big smile on his face.

Sat up in his hospital bed, Elio watched his son trying to get to grips with his sister’s name, and laughed again, amused. 

“Whatever. That’s not going to be her new name, no matter what you say,” he quipped playfully, pushing a curl behind Sam’s ear.

Sam smiled, big, and turned towards Oliver, all pleased for having made Elio laugh.

“Esther’s getting stronger every day. Almost as strong as you, little rascal,” Oliver said, leaning over to hug his son, picking him up from the bed, making him shriek. “Not long to go and we can all go home.”

Elio looked at them. Bit his lower lip. He was happy, everything was going well. Esther was okay.

But there was something, a thought, that he couldn’t get rid of; he wanted to talk to Oliver. Was desperate to.

 

 

And so when Annella came to pick up Sam, and Elio and Oliver were left alone, the boy decided to ask.

“Do you think. Do you think it was my fault?”

Oliver frowned. Took a couple of steps towards the bed, slow.

“What was your fault?”

“What happened. That Esther was... early. And even with Sammy, I... it was so difficult.” Elio looked down, at his lap, and then back up at Oliver, his eyes worried. “Is there something wrong with me? With my body?”

“Oh, Elio.” Oliver sat on the chair next to his bed. “No. Of course not. There’s nothing wrong with you.”

“There must be,” Elio insisted. “Our daughter is in an incubator. I haven’t even - held her, yet. There must be something wrong.”

Elio looked down again, trying to breathe deep. He didn’t want to cry, again.

He felt a gentle hand nudge his chin up; and when he glanced up, Oliver’s eyes were full of love.

“There’s nothing wrong with you, Elio. You are the strongest person I know. You’re the craziest, most passionate, most infuriatingly beautiful and brave person I’ve ever met. Everything you’ve done - everything your body has done, you’ve done your best. And you’ve given me two perfect children. How can there be anything wrong with you?”

Oliver’s eyes were looking at him so intensely, and Elio felt chained, chained to his gaze. His heart beat fast in his chest. He smiled; looked down, looked up again.

Oliver leaned towards him, and kissed his mouth, in an ‘I love you’ that didn’t need words. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you liked this chapter, please let me know!


	24. Chapter 24

Esther had to stay in the hospital for the next two weeks. She was smaller than she should have been, but she was healthy - the doctors wanted to make sure to look after her until she got strong enough for the world outside.

It was hard on Elio.

He wanted to stay at the hospital with his daughter, but also be with Sam. Oliver tried to bring their son to see Elio every day, but it was still difficult for the young Omega, and he was constantly worrying about his newborn little girl and the little boy he’d left at home, to be looked after by Mafalda and his mother when Oliver was at work.

In the end, Elio was exhausted. He’d cried so many times in those two weeks - upset and hormones playing havoc on his weakened body - that once he returned home he felt he had no tears left.

The sight of Esther in her cot - the brand new bedsheets and blanket, a calming aquamarine blue, and Sam’s favourite little pillow which the boy had wanted to give her - made Elio feel better. But he was still nervous about leaving her alone to sleep. He lay in bed, with his daughter napping quietly nearby, and listened to every noise, every breath and every gurgle. Oliver came in often with food; pushed him to eat. Insisted he should sleep. “I’ll be here with her,” he promised, as Elio blinked reddened eyes, forced himself to stay awake.

In the end, the sleeping pills the doctor prescribed were the only thing that allowed Elio to get some rest.

 

 

 

 

 

A month went by, and Esther had now gotten stronger. She was feeding and sleeping with no issues. She was fine. She was beautiful.

But Elio was still having problems. He was still exhausted. Still worried, still down. He spent most of the day in bed, often with Sam in his arms, cuddled up to him.

The doctor had said these symptoms would pass soon, that there was nothing to worry about - but Oliver was well aware of the fact that the health of Omegas was often not taken seriously, illnesses went undiagnosed; and so he insisted. It wasn’t normal for Elio to be so subdued, to spend days in bed, to be so lifeless and sad. Elio was usually a ball of energy, beautiful, happy, excitable and passionate. This was a change that Oliver just couldn’t, nor wouldn’t ignore.

 

 

 

 

 

The medicine made Elio feel worse at the beginning. But then, slowly but surely, he felt better.

He no longer wanted to stay in bed for the whole day. He started wanting to get up, have food. He spent time cuddling his daughter, and he felt he had the energy for it.

It was a slow, but definite improvement.

 

 

 

 

 

“It’s so annoying,” Elio said one evening, as he watched Oliver change their daughter. “I only have one exam left to graduate. And now I have to postpone it.”

He walked over to the bed, and curled up on top of the covers. He’d lost what little baby weight he’d put on. He was thin, and got tired really easily.

“Only until September,” Oliver replied, tucking Esther back into her crib. “Time to sleep now,” he said to the baby, squeezing her little fist gently between two fingers.

“I know. But we were meant to go to America. I’ve messed up all our plans,” Elio murmured.

Oliver walked over, sat down on the edge of the bed next to him. He reached out; stroked a careful finger through the boy’s hair on his temple.

“You didn’t do anything. It’s all fine.” He stroked a few more locks of hair back from Elio’s forehead. “There is no rush.”

Elio looked up. His green eyes studied Oliver, to discern whether the older man was being honest, or just trying to make him feel better.

“In fact,” Oliver continued. “I think it would be good if we didn’t go, just yet. I think we should wait until next year. Esther is so little. It’s good to have the help of your parents and Mafalda.” 

“I can do this, you know,” Elio said at that. Pouted.

“Of course you can. It’s not because of you. I just think Esther could do with some more time in Italy. Nice weather, good air to breathe. And you could do with the rest, as well. We all could.”

Elio was still pouting, frowning. And so Oliver leant over, and kissed his creased forehead.

“What do you say we go to sleep, now? I’ve been looking forward to having you curled up in my arms.”

Elio chuckled softly, even though he was still trying to look annoyed. The thought of cuddling up to his Alpha in bed made him realise just how tired he was. How much he was looking forward to sleeping for a few hours.

“Are you sure Esther is okay?” he murmured softly as he lay down, let Oliver wrap his arm around his waist, spoon him from behind.

Oliver kissed his nape.

“She’s already asleep. And enjoying her nap.”

“Mmmh,” Elio closed his eyes, twined the fingers of one hand with Oliver’s over his abdomen. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Oliver pushed his nose into Elio’s curls. He smelled sweet. Calm. Like chamomile, like rose water. “Now sleep, baby.”

And soon, they were both quiet, breathing in unison.


	25. Chapter 25

Oliver had meant to kiss Elio goodbye once, but two minutes later, they were still kissing. 

Stood in the kitchen, next to bowls of cereal and baby food, Elio had his arm wrapped around Oliver’s nape and opened his mouth for him with abandon. Next to them, on his high chair, Sam squealed and giggled.

“Fuck. Your heat is coming soon,” Oliver growled against Elio’s cheek, eyes closed, when they parted. His belly was in turmoil, body already stiffening at the pheromones that his Omega was giving off.

Elio nodded, nudging his nose against Oliver’s, looking up into his eyes.

“Don’t go to work today,” he asked quietly against Oliver’s mouth.

Oliver chuckled very softly. “I wish. But I have to, baby.”

Elio whined in protest, and tightened his arm around Oliver’s neck to hold him in place, joining their mouths again. Oliver humoured him for a while; until he felt it, so clearly, the urge to rut against the Omega, the pull to mate with him - and he forced himself to end everything there.

Elio whined, louder.

“Will you fuck me tonight, when you’re back?,” he asked, voice husky, full of want. “I want your knot,” he added, quieter.

“You’re going back on birth control as soon as possible.” Oliver pulled back a little, held Elio’s face into his hands to look into his eyes. “And then I will give you my knot.”

“Mhhh,” Elio closed his eyes, growled, frustrated. He pushed his pelvis into Oliver’s again. “Only once. Nothing’s going to happen.”

“No.” Oliver’s voice didn’t leave room for protests. “You know it’s not safe. No more babies for you for a while.”

He looked down into Elio’s eyes as the young Omega pouted, frowned, in his best impersonation of someone who was deeply disappointed.

Oliver smiled.

“Come on.” He kissed Elio’s mouth. “Have some breakfast. I’ll see you this evening when I’m back from work.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The next day, a Saturday, Elio and Oliver were in town, on a bright early afternoon.

It had been so long since they’d spent any time alone, properly alone; just strolling, holding hands. Enjoying each other.

Two kids under the age of two were a lot of work - work that brought them a lot of happiness, but work nonetheless.

And so, armed with the experience that he didn’t have for his first time around as a parent, Elio had let Oliver persuade him into leaving the children with his parents’ - the only people Elio would ever entrust Sam and Esther to, beside Mafalda - and into driving to town to spend a few hours just enjoying each other.

They stopped a few times to kiss in the street. The rest of the time, Oliver was holding Elio’s hand securely in his own, leading him in their explorations of little side streets, hidden cafes, new benches to sit and relax.

And it was all going according to plans, until Elio spotted a very unwelcome sight.

“I didn’t know Micah was just out there like that,” Elio growled under his breath, stopping in his tracks and staring daggers at the man. Micah stood by the entrance to a bar, cigarette in hand; just looking around, waiting for God knows what.

“I knew they would let him out,” Oliver said quickly. He didn’t want to dwell on the subject. “Come on, let’s go to that shoe shop you wanted to visit.”

But Elio was rooted to the spot. His eyes still firm on Micah, who was far enough that he could not see Elio unless he knew where to look.

“I hate him,” Elio growled. “I want to go over there and - give him a piece of my mind.”

There was a silence there, no response from Oliver for a long moment - and it made Elio turn towards him, meet his eyes.

And then Oliver spoke.

“I forbid you to go anywhere near him.” His voice was slow, but loud enough - he wasn’t whispering. “Whether I am around, or you’re alone, it doesn’t matter. I forbid you to approach him. Do you understand me?”

It was an order. And Elio looked up, into his eyes, confused for a moment, frowning - his rebellious instinct protesting at Oliver commanding him that way.

But he was an Omega, first and foremost. Programmed to bend to his Alpha’s voice, to his Alpha’s will.

And so when Oliver repeated again, ‘Do you understand?’, Elio startled, almost imperceptibly, almost as if he’d awoken from a strange trance - and nodded, took a deep breath.

“Yes.”

Oliver looked into his eyes a few more seconds, and then nodded.

“Good.”

He took Elio’s hand in his again, and led him towards their next destination.

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Why did you say that?” Elio asked, a little later.

Oliver didn’t look at him.

“Thought you wanted to look for new shoes.”

“No, no, I want an answer.” Elio’s eyes were round, firm, the green in his irises darkened to a stormy hue, his eyebrows knitted.

“Do we have to do this here?” Oliver said, then checked himself, took a breath.

Elio rolled his eyes, then turned on his heels, and left the shop - and Oliver followed instantly.

“Hey, Elio. Wait!”

“Why did you - tell me you forbid me, why did you use that voice, to make me - to make me shut up? Obey you?” Elio asked, a row of questions spat out frantically.

“Because I’m your Alpha.”

“You don’t do that usually!” Elio cried, his eyes filling with tears, and he rolled them in annoyance at himself, for crying so easily. “You don’t do that, anymore!”

Oliver pursed his lips. Sighed.

“Elio,” he started, lowering his voice, and taking a step towards the boy. Elio was looking up at him, tearful eyes flashing.

“This is not about making you obey just because I can. This is about us being a couple. About me not wanting you to be harmed. And that guy - that guy is dangerous. Wouldn’t you say the same to me, if I told you that I wanted to go and start a fight with him? Wouldn’t you worry about me getting hurt?”

“Of course I would,” Elio replied, his eyes still steely, and fixed on Oliver. 

“That’s what I want. I just want to protect you, to protect us. And I don’t want you near him - I don’t want him having the chance to hurt you.”

Elio sniffled, rubbed one eye with the back of his hand, still looking straight into Oliver’s eyes. Then he looked away; took a breath.

“I thought we wanted to have a nice day?” Oliver said then, softly. Reached out with his hand to nudge Elio’s face back towards him, finger gently under his chin. “Come on. Let’s go and get a drink. I feel like hot chocolate.”

He placed his hand on the small of Elio’s back, and waited until the boy started walking before falling in step with him.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

When, a week later, they found themselves in town again, they were taking Esther to one of her check ups at the doctor.

Elio held her in his arms, kissing her cheek as she snoozed still, even after he picked her up from her stroller. Oliver was close by, locking up their car; when they saw him, again. Micah.

In the parking lot behind the doctor’s office - but this time, he wasn’t alone. A young boy was with him - an Omega, Oliver could tell. Oliver looked over, his protective instincts on high, particularly now that his daughter was there - and good thing he did, because, as the boy made eye contact with him, Oliver could see that he was crying. 

It reminded him so much of the expression Elio had every time Micah was around, the fear and the upset in his face, and so Oliver set his jaw, frowned at the scene.

The boy was clearly trying to keep Micah away from him, but the man was of course stronger, and he must have failed to notice that Oliver and Elio were not far, because he reached out, grasped the boy’s wrists behind his back, held the boy’s face with a hand - so forceful, the young Omega cried out.

“Oliver,” Elio whispered, holding Esther tighter to himself.

Micah pushed the boy against the wall of the building, held his wrists as he tried to struggle. His hand disappeared on the boy’s body.

“Hey!” Oliver shouted. “Hey. What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Micah turned around, but still didn’t let go of the young Omega he held captive. He smiled his unsettling smile as soon as his eyes landed on Oliver.

“Oh, look who’s here. My favorite Omega and his bodyguard!”

Oliver took a few steps towards the man. He felt his anger rising, quickly.

“Let him go. Right now.”

“Or what? What are you going to do? Punch me again, like last time?”

Micah still smiled - as if nothing could touch him.

“Let.him.go,” Oliver growled again, his stance rigid, aggressive. And when Micah smiled again, his hands still on the Omega, Oliver sprinted forward, pushed Micah off of him. The boy breathed hard, and then took a few steps backward - trembling, traumatised.

“You really like this hero role don’t you??” Micah laughed, breathed hard because Oliver had him pinned agains the wall. “Just mind your own damn business! Nobody cares about Omegas, nobody cares about you saving them!”

He said the last few words in a mocking tone, voice whiny and dramatic, and Oliver hated him, hated him with all of his being. He stopped himself from punching him in the face again, even though his Alpha instinct was telling him to do exactly that, to leave him bloodied and wheezing on the ground.

But then, he heard a voice.

“We care.”

A man stood a few steps from them. Next to him, a woman; and again, a nurse from the doctor’s office. Behind them, Elio, with Esther in his arms. Oliver didn’t know how long they’d been standing there for.

And then the man spoke again.

“We’ve seen what happened. This young Omega here with his baby daughter came to call us. And I for one am glad I listened to him.”

“You, and everybody else who thinks like you, are scum of the earth,” the woman said, her face hard, furious. “The more we can do to get the likes of you locked up, the better. Things need to change.”

Next to them, Elio stood, his chin up in pride.

Micah started struggling a few seconds later; and Oliver realised why when he noticed the police car pulling up by the curb near them.

He didn’t let go, pushed him harder against the wall, until the officers came over and took him away.

“Don’t worry,” Elio heard the lady say to the young Omega they’d saved. “He’s going to jail, and staying there this time. We’ll all speak up for you.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The drive back home was quiet.

Esther had cried at the doctor’s, so she was tired, slept in her cot secured to the backseat.

Once home, Elio put her to bed.

And Oliver came into the bedroom, just as Elio was stroking Esther’s little hand gently, smiling gently at her.

“You alright?” Oliver asked softly.

Elio nodded. He walked out of the room, waiting for Oliver to follow so that he could turn off the light, to let Esther sleep.

Oliver stopped just outside the room, looked down, and then back up at Elio from the corner of his eye.

“I learned something very valuable, today,” he said, voice still soft.

Elio frowned, turned to give him his attention.

“I learned that it’s not enough to just - protect your family, the ones you love. From those who want to hurt them. I learned that speaking up is needed, too. To stop these people from hurting others instead.”

Elio smiled, a small smile that only stretched his lips, but didn’t show his teeth.

“Now do you see why I wanted to give him a piece of my mind,” he said, looking into Oliver’s eyes.

“I still wouldn’t have let you. You’re too important to me to let you be in danger. But -“ and he raised his hand a little, to stop Elio’s protest, “you’ve taught me. Once again. That there are other ways, and that making things known means other people will see them, too. And help.”

At that, Elio smiled. Wider.

He looked up, into Oliver’s eyes; swallowed, tried to blink away the emotion of the moment. And then, when he found that he couldn’t - he stepped closer to Oliver, threw his arms around his neck, and hugged him, tight.

“Do you know what,” he said, when he pulled back a minute later, looking again into Oliver’s gleaming eyes. “I’m just happy that I could call the police on his ass.”

And there, Oliver laughed - and reached out to join their mouths in a kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is about to end! 
> 
> Sorry for the delay, but I have been pretty sick - I’m still coughing my lungs out. Gah! 
> 
> Well. Hope you enjoyed this one. Please don’t forget to comment and let me know what you think!


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